


a harder kind of fear

by transtlanticism



Category: Virals Series - Kathy Reichs
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, F/M, M/M, Minor Character Death, and some not so fun zombie fights, fun zombie fights, i mean obviously, ive written almost all of the middle and none of the beginning, just be glad i cut the most graphic scene, listen this shit is gonna get plot twisty towards the end, lots of telepathy, multiple POVs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2019-08-04 04:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16339583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transtlanticism/pseuds/transtlanticism
Summary: Disaster strikes across the United States—an actual zombie apocalypse, complete with all the panic, terror and destruction anyone would expect to accompany this. When Ben disappears on a routine venture for supplies, the kids head out to find him, but an attack separates the group from their parents. Alone, with limited supplies and Hi's last-ditch plan, they set off for the Blue Ridge Mountains in North Carolina in search of isolation and determined to survive. But when they arrive, they're not quite as alone—or safe—as they expected to be, and it's a struggle to stay alive, especially when they learn the truth about the apocalypse and why it started.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i'm posting a bit now but god damn it let me tell you guys how many words i just accidentally fucking DELETED that i spent so long working on so after i post this i'm gonna go rewrite that.
> 
> title from the song sonsick by san fermin
> 
> sorry for the amount of angst i'm putting you all through but at least there's very little relationship drama between bory and helton because i felt like writing some happy couples for once.

PROLOGUE

 

Charleston’s barrier islands had always been irritatingly isolated from the rest of the state. But that year, it was a cause for celebration.

It was a cause for celebration when the virus swept through the country, and suddenly everyone was a monster. It was a cause for celebration when the creatures couldn’t swim, and Morris’s forty inhabitants piled together what guns they had to set up a constant guard at the bridge.

It was a cause for celebration when four kids, home from college for the summer, were spared the invasion just because they were there.

“I’ve got a theory.” Camped in the bunker, Hiram Stolowitski’s eyes flashed a muddy blue as he glanced around at his companions. “I bet we can’t even get the virus. We’ve already got a virus. They’ll just cancel each other out. It’s PEMDAS.”

Benjamin Blue, ever skeptical, tipped his chair back. “That’s not how viruses work, moron. They’re not mutually exclusive conditions.”

“How do you know?” Hi shot back. “Ever caught a zombie plague?”

“No. But almost everyone we know has.”

“It’s nuts.” Shelton Devers was slumped in a chair in the far corner, tugging his ear. “Y’all remember my cousin, Stacie? Well, she doesn’t remember us.”

“I doubt she would remember us anyway.” Ben flicked a piece of lint from his jeans. “We met her once when we were ten. She’s never even met Tory.”

Which made all three of them glance at their fourth companion: Victoria Brennan, perched in the cannon slit, glancing at her phone and chewing on her lip.

“News?” Shelton asked.

She shook her head, uncharacteristically quiet.

They weren’t panicking. They weren’t scared, or horrified, or inconsolable. They were just tired, and beaten, and a little bit heartbroken. Because they’d tried to fight when they’d first caught wind of the virus spreading in Charleston.

They had tried to fight. And it had overwhelmed the city. There was nothing they could do except watch the human race die off, one by one.

And so they hid in the bunker, and they waited for it to pass.

 

…

 

TORY

It’s day fifty when they blow the bridge.

“We’re not self-sufficient!” I yell at Kit. My father looks like a man who’s been to hell and back. “How are we supposed to get food? We’ll run out eventually!”

“It’s not safe to keep the bridge up.”

“It’s not safe to exist on this planet at the moment,” I spit. “But the alternative is much worse.”

Kit doesn’t answer. I eventually leave to go stew in my own thoughts on the beach.

Across the water, Charleston is dark. Lights are few and far between, and the ones that are still on will burn out eventually. Radio is filled with static. People who are still alive are hiding. Social media, the only safe way to communicate, is thriving, even as servers go down one by one. It’s a lot easier to capture a signal on a remote island now that no one on the mainland is using the cell towers.

A shape emerges out of the darkness, taking a seat beside me on the sand.

“No bridge, huh?”

“Guess not.” I swallow down the lump in my throat.

Shelton’s silent beside me for a while.

“What were you looking at today?” he asks. “You looked like you were waiting for something.”

“I was checking Twitter.” We stare out at the waves, black water lapping gently at the sand. The tide is coming in—some things never change, even after humanity is ravaged by a plague that converts innocent people to mutants—and I take off my flip-flops, setting them behind me. “I, uh…wanted to see if anyone we know is…alive.”

“Anything from Jason?”

I shake my head. “His family will be hiding somewhere if they made it. They’re paranoid enough not to let Jason and his sister use the internet.”

“So what were you really looking for?” Shelton nudges me with an elbow. 

“Chance hasn’t been online in thirty days.” I haven’t told anyone I’ve been checking on his platforms—I didn’t feel the need to have that conversation with Ben. As long as I was sure Chance was alive, it would be fine. But there hasn’t been a single peep since he tweeted about his “good friend” Elon Musk shuttling survivors into space.

I tell Shelton this, and he absorbs it, staring up at the moon. He doesn't even bother to laugh at the absurdity of the concept.

“That’s bullshit,” he finally says. “The Elon Musk thing. We all know there’s no way that panned out.”

“Forget that,” I mutter. “Chance would have said something if he made it there anyway.”

“Tor.” Shelton’s hand lands on my shoulder. “I hate that we have to operate under the assumption that everyone we know is gone. But…”

I know.

He’s right.

“Yeah,” I say quietly.

“Blowing the bridge was so stupid,” Shelton says bitterly, leaning back on his elbows. “Now the only way off is by boat, which is potentially infinitely more dangerous. You can’t sneak ashore with a boat. Getting back to the boat is a nightmare. If we leave the island, there’s no way of getting back.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.”

He stares at me. “Are you insane?”

Maybe. “We can’t stay here forever.”

“We can sure as hell stay here until it blows over!” he hisses. 

I fix him with a sharp look. “We’re almost out of food. Running water isn’t going to last long, at this rate, and it never rains here. Plus, at some point, they’re going to have us so surrounded that we’ll never escape. Better to get out of the city now, while we still have a chance.”

“Where do you suggest we go, exactly?” Shelton says acidly. “Go live out somewhere in the west, grow our own food and pump water from a well, raise fucking chickens or something? This is ridiculous.” He gestures to the ocean. “I say we go hide out on Loggerhead. No one could find us there.”

“We’ll be eaten by monkeys!”

“Not before we eat them.” We’re both half-joking, I know, because the thought of actually getting off Morris Island is scary as hell.

But not quite as scary as staying here.

“Congregating without me?” Hi strolls up the beach, hands in pockets, worry flickering in his hazel eyes. “Discussing how to avoid becoming zombie chow?”

“This isn’t a video game, man!” Shelton’s hand drifts to his ear. “Brennan here thinks we should bail and hit the mainland before it’s too late.”

I catch Hi’s eye, hear a flash of his thought: _fucking insane_. “I mean…it’s an idea.”

“It’s a stupid idea,” Shelton grumbles. “Where would we go?”

“Somewhere deserted,” Hi says immediately. “I vote North Carolina.”

“Why is your go-to always North Carolina? You went there with your parents one time.”

“Enough,” I interrupt, not wanting this to get ugly. “What’s in North Carolina, Hi?”

“Blue Ridge Mountains.” He glances at Shelton. “Isolated, but not on an island. Those people keep to themselves. There will be survivors up there.”

“You hope,” Shelton mutters.

“Thought you guys might be out here.”

We glance up as Ben joins us, settling himself next to me. He looks apprehensive, and I can feel a wall blocking his head, projecting into our shared headspace enough that our flares all bloom to life.

“What’s with the mind games, Blue?” Hi asks. “No secrets at the end of the world.”

He grimaces. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“Clearly we do.” Shelton looks like he’s trying to do complex math in his head, and I sense he’s chipping away at Ben’s mental block. “What’s happening?”

He doesn’t answer for a moment, staring at the dock, his boat parked next to his father’s.

“We’ve had an issue with the power,” he finally says. “All the stuff in your freezer, Hi, the last-resort supplies…it’s gone. We have zero backup plan right now. So far, Shelton and Tory’s power is still on, but our places are toast.”

“Gone?” I whisper. 

“Fucking great.” Shelton looks up towards the houses. “What happens now? We take Tory’s suggestion and get the hell out?”

I watch Coop rustle through the bushes. “How would we convince our families to do that?”

“We’re not,” Ben says. “Everyone’s staying here. We’re going to get supplies tonight, and be back by morning.”

“Thank God.” Shelton drops his head onto the sand. “Leave the world-saving up to the adults for once.”

“Hold on,” Hi says sharply. “Who is we?”

Ben looks uncomfortable. “Um, my dad. And…me.”

Three disbelieving stares.

“You cannot do this,” Hi says. “You can’t.”

“I’ll be fine,” he says tightly. 

A shrill voice rings across the sand.

“HIRAM!”

Hi winces. “This conversation is not over,” he warns, scrambling to his feet and walking up the incline.

Shelton’s phone buzzes directly afterward. “That’ll be my mom,” he says glumly. “We’ll talk this over later. I can’t be chatting in my head during dinner.”

It doesn’t feel right to break the silence after they leave. Ben takes my hand, and I’m shivering slightly, despite the August heat.

_I should be getting ready to go back to school._

I don’t even realize I’ve sent the thought until Ben’s hand squeezes mine. _I know._

_Why is your dad making you go with him?_ I ask. _You don’t know how bad it is out there._

_He isn’t making me. I volunteered._ Ben stretches out his legs, heedless of the creeping tide. _The alternative is hiding here until we all die._

_Let me go with you,_ I say. _You could use an extra watchdog._

_Not a chance. And Kit would never let you._

_Yeah, because I’ve spent my whole life abiding by Kit’s rules._

He cracks a slight smile. _Please. Just…don’t put yourself in any unnecessary danger._

“Um, excuse me?” I say aloud. “You’re one to talk about unnecessary danger.”

Maybe I should fight harder. 

But fighting is useless. As angry as I am at Tom Blue for agreeing to bring Ben with him, there’s no one I trust more to get home safely. If Ben can’t make it, no one can.

“I need you to promise me something,” he says, and his hand tightens around mine. “Whatever happens, if I don’t come back…” He trails off, but I hear the rest of the words echo in my head. Don’t come after me.

“You can’t ask that of me.”

“Just promise me that,” he says. “Because I can’t leave you here and worry that you’re going to go out there and get yourself infected.”

I hold his gaze. “Come back alive, and then we’ll talk.”

He leans over to kiss me, and I run my hand through his long black hair, the thought that this might be the last time I ever get to do that whispering annoyingly in my head.

_I have to go at some point,_  he says, not even pausing in kissing me to send the thought. _Like, now._

_Or not._

He finally pulls away and stands, brushing the sand from his jeans.

And I watch him leave, walking to meet his father in the driveway, and he keeps walking until I can’t feel him in my head anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben isn't back yet. So now what?

SHELTON 

DAY 51

I wake up way too early.

The sky is a little light, but the sun hasn’t even begun to sneak over the horizon yet, so I’m guessing it’s about 4 in the morning. The clock by my bed, still powered, confirms my suspicion, but there’s no way I’m getting back to sleep.

A quick telepathic check of my companions tells me that Hi is awake, but Tory isn’t, so after carefully slipping through my house and sneaking through the front door, I pause outside his house and fire him a quick message.

_Mentally throwing rocks at your window._

_Trying to sleep,_  he complains.

_How’s that working out for you?_

Silence. Then,  _Yeah. I’ll be down in five._

I sit on the steps to wait.

It’s a good ten minutes later before the door squeaks open and Hi steps outside, looking exhausted in a  _Bunnicula_ t-shirt and the most hideous orange Bermuda shorts I’ve ever seen. “Hey. What’s with the wake-up call?”

“You were already awake.”

He glances towards the door.  _Let’s get out of here before my mom sees us._  

Hi leads the retreat down the path to the beach, and we pick a grassy dune to sit on, out of sight from the townhouses. He twists a strand of grass between his fingers. 

“So Ben’s not back yet?” 

I shake my head. “Surprised Tory isn’t pacing by the docks.”

“She probably will once the sun rises.” Hi checks his watch. “Ben said he’d be back by morning. Cutting it a little fine, don’t you think?”

I can tell he’s itching to jump into Ben’s boat and go after them, despite the fact that he has no idea how to drive it. He’d probably paddle it if he had to, so I grab his hand to keep him next to me. “He’s probably fine. He’s Ben. He’ll make it back.” 

I know he doesn’t believe a word I say, but he nods anyway, eyes glinting slightly blue in the sun that’s just beginning to rise over the ocean. 

So we just sit there for a while, hand in hand, occasionally sending reassuring messages back and forth. 

_He’ll be here soon._

_He’s just held up._

_Doesn’t want to be seen._

Hi’s playing Vines in his head, trying to get me to laugh, and it works only because he doesn’t remember them well enough to perfectly recreate them. It’s just a montage of videos that are just slightly out of tune or played in the wrong order. It’s a good distraction though, and he does a pretty spot-on imitation of Tory.  _Saw you hanging out with Madison yesterday!_

I stifle a laugh.  _Tory, it’s not what you think!_

_I WON’T HESITATE, BITCH!_

The response doesn’t come from Hi, though, but from Tory herself, striding over the dune and taking a seat next to us with a wry smile. “Thought I’d find you guys out here. Watching the dock.”

“You’re just mad because we beat you to it.” Hi dodges Tory’s elbow. “What time is it?”

“About six-thirty.” Tory’s expression darkens. “He’s been gone eight hours and thirty minutes.”

“How long can it possibly take to get supplies?” Hi complains. “He said he’d be back by morning.”

“It’s not morning yet,” I say quickly. 

Tory gives me a look.  _Then what the fuck is that bright yellow thing coming up over the water?_

_Counterpoint. The sun doesn’t always equal morning,_ Hi jumps in.  _In Sweden, the sun rises at, like, 4 AM._

“Do you understand what AM stands for?” Tory demands.

“Ante meridiem,” Hi answers primly. “Not ‘at morning _,’_ if you were thinking that.” 

“I was  _not._ ”

Another hour passes before we finally get to our feet.

“Maybe we should just get breakfast first,” I suggest. “He’ll be back before we know it.”

“It’s probably just taking longer than expected to find supplies,” Tory agrees.

Hi doesn’t answer, but follows us up the hill anyway. 

…

HI 

We wait until 11:59 AM to decide that he’s not coming back before morning’s over. By then, we’re gathered on the common grass outside my front steps.

“So,” Shelton says quietly. “What do we do now?"

“You know we have to go after him,” Tory insists. She’s pacing on the lawn, full of bright and furious energy, and Shelton looks exhausted.

“Tory,” I begin. “If Ben isn’t back by now—”

“He could be trapped,” she interrupts.

“We don’t know.” Shelton taps his head. “I can’t feel him.”

“Which means he’s out of range!” Tory bursts. “Not that he’s dead!”

“We don’t  _know_ ,” Shelton repeats. 

Tory directs her glare on him. “Then let’s go find out.”

 “Hold on,” I say. “Tor, I know you’re the empress of insane, borderline suicidal ideas. But this is straight up crazy. This isn’t borderline anything. It’s just the worst idea in the history of the world.” 

“Are you surprised?” Shelton cuts in. 

“And I don’t know how you think we’re going to track him down in a giant city full of parasites out for our blood.”

“Because it’s Ben!” Tory shouts. “Because it’s Ben, and he’s family, and packs don’t abandon their own. And furthermore, I don’t believe for one second that if it was Shelton, you wouldn’t be going after him right now.”

Goddamnit, but she’s right, and I know it.  

“If it was Shelton,” I fire back, “I wouldn’t have let him go without me in the first place.” If it was Shelton, I wouldn’t have even waited this long. But Ben is the most likely of us all to survive something like this.

Tory’s still furiously glaring at me, so I just sigh and stand up. “When do we go?”

“One hour. Pack for the long haul, just in case.” She’s already striding towards her house, Coop at her heels.

“Well.” Shelton stretches his arms, cracks his muscles. “So. This is a thing that’s happening.”

 … 

Back in my room, I can’t focus.

I can’t shake the feeling that Tory’s decision is signing some kind of death warrant. I somehow know that we won’t be coming back for a while.  

My travel backpack, lying against the foot of my bed, is blessedly empty, so I toss in what I need and sneak downstairs to fill the rest with food. At the last second, I run back upstairs and grab the map I’ve been plotting all summer. Before Google Earth stopped working, I spent hours familiarizing myself with the river systems of the Carolinas. I know practically every step it would take for us to disappear into the Blue Ridge Mountains. Grow our own food. Wait out the storm.  

I briefly wonder how Tory plans to pull his off. She swears she can get us off the island, but how she plans to sneak past Kit and Whitney is beyond me. I might have to waltz in with one of my brilliant distractions. Though I’m not sure how well they’d work on Kit. Even my genius has limits.

_Are you ready?_

Shelton’s throwing mental rocks at my window, so I slide it open and peer down at him.  _Almost,_ I send.  _Where’s Tory?_

_I think she’s going to the cove,_ Sheltons says.  _That’s where Ben stashed_ Sewee.  _I can only assume that’s her plan to get us out of here._

_You’ve got to be kidding me._

_Toss your bag. I’ll get it to the dock._

I reach down and heft the heavy bag.  _I don’t think you can catch this._

_Try me,_ Shelton challenges.

I lean against the windowsill, attempting a shrill Juliet voice, which is a lot more difficult when I’m trying to do it in my head.  _Shelton, Shelton, wherefore art thou so fucking weak? Deny thy—_

_Just toss me the bag, Hiram!_

_Your funeral._ I let it drop. As expected, he sprawls in the sand when it hits him.

“Ouch.” He stands, glaring at the offending bag.  _That was heavier than I thought it would be._

_I told you._

He heads off to the dock, and I consider the stores of water sitting in Ben’s garage. Whether we should take them with us.

_I got it covered,_ Tory says firmly. Sneaking a look through her eyes, I can see her striding purposefully through the dunes.  _Be at the dock, ready to go, in ten._

_Are you headed to the bunker?_ Shelton asks as it drifts to the front of her thoughts.

_No._ Sewee  _is at the cove._ Her tone is clipped and I know she’s going to poke her head in, if only to say goodbye. Which means, logically, that she thinks we’re not coming back.

So we really do need that water. And my map. 

I hear footsteps on my stairs and whirl, preparing for my mother. Instead, it’s Shelton, looking worried.

“She’s saying goodbye,” I say. 

He nods. “Does that mean we’re not coming back?”

“Not for a while, I think.”

He lets his head fall onto my shoulder, and I wrap my arms around him, and we just stand like that for a minute, taking in our last moments of peace before we go.

And if I’m telling the truth, I’m scared of losing him. If it were up to me, he’d stay behind, at least while we’re trying to find Ben.

“We’ll come back,” I promise. “Eventually."

“What if there’s nothing left when we do?”

I don’t answer. 

When I hear the first crash, I quickly detach from Shelton, and jump backwards, convinced it must be my mother. But there’s another crash and a rotten smell floods my nostrils.

Shelton freezes. “Oh my God.”

There’s a scream from downstairs. I still can’t move, and neither can Shelton.

_Hi! Shelton! Now!_

It’s Tory’s voice that pulls us to life. As Shelton dashes down the stairs, I snag a compass from my bookshelf and shove it in my pocket, searching wildly for a weapon. 

“Hi!”  

I join Shelton downstairs and he tosses me a curtain rod that he’s pulled off the wall. The curtains are in a heap on the floor. The rod is a bit too long to function as a bat, so I hold it like a staff, hoping all the years I spent stick-dueling with Shelton and Ben in the woods will kick in.

_Outside,_ Shelton says.  _At least…ten? Maybe more. How the hell did they get here? Can they swim now?_

A horrible thought comes to me.  _Oh my God, what if it’s Ben?_

_Zombies can’t drive boats!_ Shelton mind-shouts, wielding his own curtain rod.  _Right?_

_That sounds like a_ Vampires Don’t Wear Polka Dots  _sequel,_ I point out.

_Hiram!_  

Right. We’re being attacked by zombies. I kick the door open and carefully slip outside, Shelton following in my wake. 

Outside, it's pandemonium. Tory’s perched on the bow of  _Sewee,_ the boat loosely tied to the dock. There’s a rifle in her hands and she’s aiming it directly at the first zombie. Barging into her headspace, I can more closely see the face of the first zombie.

Okay. Not Ben.

_None of them are Ben,_ Tory says.  _Or Tom. Or Myra. I double-checked._

_Right. Okay._ A zombie approaches and I react instinctively, swinging the rod at its neck. I clip it and it immediately goes down.

_Finish it,_ I say, and Shelton’s face crumples a second before he brings the end of the rod down on the zombie’s head. The creature goes limp. 

Shelton’s still staring at the corpse, breathing hard, even though we’re still surrounded by the undead, and I realize why—it’s his first kill. I’ve had a turn at the gun when I was guarding the bridge with my dad, but Shelton never did.

“They’re not human,” I remind him quietly. “This is the right thing to do.”

“Yeah.” His voice catches, but he regains his composure and swings at the next closest zombie, missing by a hair. 

As Shelton and I hold the fort, I spot the other parents doing the same. My mother is nowhere to be found, but I spot Shelton’s mom holding a pistol and his father armed with a literal  _sword—_ where he got that, I have no idea. I can hear Whitney’s screams from here, but as we drop another zombie I see Kit emerge outside, a rifle in his grip. And then he spots Tory. Also holding a rifle. 

For a moment, the two stare at each other, then a zombie lurches slightly too close to Tory and she fires three times, knocking it backwards. It falls into the water and disappears under the surface, dead.

“What…” Kit says weakly. “When did you learn to use that?”

“Long story.” Tory fires again, taking out another one. 

“Why have you got Ben's boat?” Kit surveys us all, a mixture of concern and bewilderment. “Hold on a minute. You guys aren’t seriously thinking of—”

“KIT!”

Time seems to slow as Tory’s face stretches with horror, and then I see it—to Kit’s left, just out of his sight. 

_Oh my God,_ Shelton whispers.

It’s a wave.

It’s an entire wave of zombies. 

Kit swivels and fires—and it clicks. The gun is empty. He’s defenseless.

Tory jumps up, sprinting from the boat and up the hill. “Kit!” she yells. “Here!” She tosses the rifle and he catches it.

_Hey, guys,_ Shelton says mildly. I whirl, and see he's slowly backing away from an approaching zombie.  _Now might be a really, really, really good time to get out of here._

_And leave our families here?_ It’s an argument I have to make, but my heart’s not in it.

Tory’s eyes meet Kit’s, and I see a look pass between them. One that clearly reads exactly what she wants it to.

_Go_ , he seems to be saying.  _Get to safety._

_But come back. Come back._

Her chin dips in a nod and she turns to us. We don’t hesitate, dropping our makeshift weapons and scrambling for the boat.

“I hope you have another gun,” Shelton pants. “We don’t stand a chance without one.”

“I do.” Tory fires the engine just as Cooper bounds aboard. “Hi, untie us.”

I scramble to untangle the loops of rope and we shoot off into open water. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: @tackmins


	3. Chapter 3

We float close to shore. Tory drops the anchor and sits with her knees pulled to her chest.

“We left them,” she finally says. “We actually left them behind.”

Shelton shifts awkwardly. “Kit told us to go,” he says quietly. “Tory, he was protecting us.”

“And now he might have died for us. All of them.” I can feel her boxing her emotions, carefully wrapping them up and setting them aside to peel open later. Wiping tears from her freckled face, she lifts the anchor and starts the engine again.

“So,” Shelton suggests. “Should we maybe have a game plan before we dock, or are we just presenting ourselves as a zombie seafood buffet?”

“We need to be careful,” Tory says, “on alert at all times. We—”

I cut her off with a sharp yelp. “Look!”

Docked directly in front of us is _Hugo._

Tory stiffens. “I smell blood. A lot of it.”

“Maybe it isn’t from the boat,” I offer.

“It is.” She cuts the engine as we roll towards the dock. Shelton removes his glasses and squeezes his eyes shut as we approach, but I can’t look away. Not even when it’s clear that a body, too shredded and mutilated to even turn into a zombie, is lying in the bottom of the boat in a lake of blood.

Tory’s hands are shaking as she climbs onto the dock and crosses to _Hugo._ I know what’s she’s thinking. What we’re all thinking.

_Ben or Tom?_

_Is it Ben? Or is it Tom?_

_Does the body at the bottom of the boat belong to Benjamin or Thomas Blue?_

Tory avoids the blood, even the dried splotches, as she gingerly turns the body over—and screams. Half of the face is gone, eaten away by multiple sets of jagged teeth.

“What? What is it?” Shelton won’t look up. “Oh my God, is it Ben?”

Tory sniffles. “No,” she says softly, and her voice is ragged and awful, but I can sense the note of relief in it. “No. It’s Tom.”

I hate that I’m relieved, too.

Tory shelves her tears again and leaves Tom’s body where it is, kneeling on the dock to dip her hands into the ocean, scrubbing the blood away. Clearing her throat, she looks up at us, her face still splotchy with the effort of not crying. “I checked for blanching, but there was nothing,” she says. “I’d guess he’s probably been here since sometime last night.” 

“So if Tom is here,” Shelton says, still refusing to look at his body, “where’s Ben?”

“Maybe we can track him.” Tory glances down at Cooper, who is still lying in the boat, head on his paws. _Hey, boy. Come on up here._

He lifts his head. _Blood. Dead body._

_That’s Ben’s father,_ Tory says. _We need you to track Ben’s scent._

“Wait,” Shelton says. “Should we grab our stuff?”

Tory shakes her head. “We can come back to the boat once we find Ben.”

This seems like a bad plan. “What about…I don’t know…scavengers?” I ask. “They might find our boat and take off with it?”

“I put all the gear under the seats, out of sight, and I’ve got the keys,” Tory says. “It’s the best we can do for now.”

“And the gun?” Shelton asks, lifting it from the bench and handing it to Tory. 

“Keep some extra ammo on you,” she says shortly. “I grabbed as much as I could carry, but I don’t know what we’re up against.”

As we advance from the dock, Coop snuffling at the wood and sand, I place a hand on Tory’s arm. She jumps slightly, but relaxes when she sees it’s just me. 

“Are you okay?” I ask. 

“Besides the fact that Ben is missing, Tom is dead, Kit might be dead, and everyone else in the world is definitely dead?” Her expression softens slightly. “No. I’m not. But I will be when we find him.”

…

TORY

 

Cooper leads us on a winding, circuitous route all the way to Bee Street when he loses the trail.

_Nothing,_ he reports glumly. _Too many smells. Can’t differentiate._

“Crap balls.” Hi scans the street again. “What do we do now?”

I hesitate. “I have an unrelated errand to run.”

“What? _Oh._ ” Shelton looks disbelievingly at me. “You must be kidding.”

“I’m not.” I glance up the street. “Listen, it’ll just take a moment, and if he’s not there—” 

“Of course he isn’t there!” Shelton explodes. “He’s supposed to be in space right now with Elon Musk!”

Hi, who’s been looking between us, finally clues in. “Seriously, Tory? You want to interrupt us looking for Ben to go find _Chance Claybourne?_ ”

“If we find him alive,” I fire back, “he could help us.”

Shelton shakes his head. “We’ll just end up responsible for keeping his sorry ass alive.”

“It’ll just take a second.” I’m already halfway up the street. “Really. I’ll be back.”

“Wait.” Shelton starts jogging after me. “We can’t leave you alone.”

“I can protect myself,” I snap.

“It’s not that,” Shelton says. “You have the gun.” 

Right. The rifle was still strapped to my back. “Then stick with me.”

The glass front doors of Candela Pharmaceutical’s headquarters are shattered—not surprising, most of the glass in the city is at this point. I swing the gun off my back and hold it out in front of me, careful not to jump at sudden movements. My flare stretches to life, and I’m suddenly acutely aware of every movement in the room. I can hear the heartbeats of my friends behind me—Hi pulls two knives from the pocket of his cargo pants and holds them at the ready. (Do I know where he got them? Absolutely not. I’ve given up trying to understand Hi as a person.)

_They were my uncle’s,_ Hi answers. 

_Cartographer or real estate agent?_ Shelton asks.

_Cartographer. Want a knife?_

I shoot a glance behind me. _How many do you have, exactly?_

_Six. Like I was leaving them behind for this little expedition._

_Shhh!_ Shelton holds up a hand and we all freeze. _I think I hear something upstairs._

I don’t question him. Shelton hears like a bat. 

_Definitely something._ He looks troubled. _You might have been right, Tor._

Cooper heads for the stairs, pawing at the heavy wooden door.

_Wait_ , Hi says. _Doesn’t Chance chill on floor, like, fifty or something?_

_There aren’t even fifty floors in this building, dumbass. Come on._ Shelton grabs his arm and steers him towards the stairs.

“Good news, though,” I say quietly. “The elevator’s working.”

_What?_ Hi spins, sees the blue-lit button. _That’s what I’m talking about. Let’s take this thing to the top floor and work our way down._

_Are you kidding me?_ Shelton’s hand drifts to his earlobe. _That’s like setting off a giant alarm. Why not just shoot the gun up the stairs? Broadcast our location to anyone hiding out in this building? It might not even be Chance in here. Why would he live in his own office? He has a dozen mansions._

True. Shelton has a point. But my instincts tell me to stay.

Hi shakes his head. _She’s got a gut feeling, Devers. We’re all screwed._

_Christ._

But the elevator doors open, and no one has time to protest further as I shepherd my group inside.

_If we get stuck in this thing,_ Shelton gripes, _I’m eating Tory first. And then the mutt._

Coop gives Shelton a reproachful look. _How many sharp teeth do you have, human?_

Hi cackles. _Good luck with that, Shelton._

The elevator dings to a stop. The doors slide open. And there’s a flash of movement so fast that I raise the gun and point it directly at him.

“Don’t shoot!” His voice cracks. “It’s me, don’t shoot!”

Shelton’s jaw drops. Hi freezes in place. Because it can’t be possible.

“How did you find me?” he asks. “How are you here?”

I drop the gun as Coop bounds forward. Because he’s here.

It’s him.

  
It’s _Ben._

_…_

“Get off me!” Ben ruffles Coop’s ears as the dog pounces on his face. “I love you too, but you’re, like, a hundred pounds.”

Ben looks disheveled. His shirt is ripped and there are scratches on his hands and face. He shoves his hair behind his ears and takes in our ragtag group.

“What are you doing here?” Shelton blurts.

Ben’s smile disappears. “That’s a long story.”

“Your dad,” I say hesitantly. “Ben, I’m so sorry.”

He squeezes his eyes shut. “We were attacked at the dock. Dropped the gun underwater. My dad distracted them so I could run.”

“Shit,” Shelton says quietly. “Ben, man—” 

“Why didn’t you try to get home?

The surprising outburst comes, even more surprisingly, from Hiram, who is glaring daggers at Ben.

“What?”

“You just hid up in Chance’s old building? Didn’t even try to contact us? To come home? You have a boat, Benjamin!”

“We still needed supplies,” Ben fires back. “My father gave his life so that I could goddamn go and get them!”

“No, your father gave his life so you could stay alive!”

I’ve never seen Hi so angry, and I’m still not sure I understand why.

“We’re gonna take a walk,” Shelton announces, grabbing Hi’s elbow and pulling him towards the elevator. “Back in five. We’ll be on floor fifteen.” 

They disappear into the elevator and I turn to face Ben.  “What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know.” Ben leans back against one of the cubicle walls. “But I’m so glad you guys are here. How’d the adults let you off the little island sanctuary?”

“Not such a sanctuary anymore,” I say. “We were attacked. I don’t know if any of our parents are alive.” 

“So that’s why you came after me,” Ben says wryly. 

“We were coming anyway,” I tell him. “Coop tracked you to Bee Street before he lost your trail.”

“And you just decided to look in Chance’s office?” he says dubiously.

I decide not to mention that I’d been looking for Chance anyway. “Well, you were here, weren’t you?”

“Touché.” He looks exhausted but envelopes me in a tight hug. “God. You’re alive. I can’t believe it.”

I catch a whiff of his hair, matted down by blood and dried seawater, and wrinkle my nose. “You need a shower, Blue.” 

“What did you say? You love me too?”

“Goes without saying.”

His face sobers. “What’s up with Hi? I couldn’t just run back to the dock. I needed to get supplies for the island. Believe me, I never wanted you guys to worry.”

Hi had blocked us from his mind, but I had still been able to smell the emotions pouring from him in waves. “I think,” I say, “he’s partly angry at you for leaving us behind in the first place, partly betrayed that you didn’t immediately try to come back to us, partly relieved you’re alive, partly conflicted about how he feels not knowing if his parents are alive or dead and partly terrified of us being on our own.” I shrug. “It’s a lot. And Hi isn’t really a serious talking-about-his-feelings kind of guy, at least not with anyone but Shelton. I’m not surprised he’s blowing up on you.”

“At least he has some doubt that his parents are dead,” Ben says softly. “He didn’t have to watch his father die.”

My heart breaks in half.

“Show me,” I say.

His voice is rough. “You don’t want to see it, Tory.”

“Show me,” I repeat, and I pull the memory from his mind as easily as tugging an unraveled thread from a worn shirt. 

And then the memory overtakes me, and I’m submerged in seawater.

Choking and gasping, Ben pulls himself onto the dock.

“Dad!” he yells. Then, louder. “DAD!”

Tom emerges a few yards down the dock. There aren’t any zombies in sight, but I can feel their presence, breathing down Ben’s neck.

“The gun?” he asks.

Ben shakes his head, eyes burning with tears. “In the water.”

“We can’t turn around,” Tom insists. “We have nothing. We won’t survive a week without supplies on the island. That water cache in our garage won’t last long.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Ben shouts. “They’re everywhere! They capsized the boat!”

Tom’s eyes are sad. “They can’t catch both of us.” 

Ben stares, uncomprehending. But I know.

Before his son can say anything, Tom scrambles to his feet and launches himself at the closest zombie, dragging it into the boat. Twenty more immediately descend, ignoring Ben completely. The sound of ripping flesh and screaming echo across the darkened sky.

I realize Ben is screaming, too.

At the last second, he turns and bolts away from the zombies. Up the dock.

The rest of the memory is strangled and choppy. Stumbling through the streets of Charleston in a haze of grief. Passively avoiding roaming groups of zombies. As dawn is breaking, he pulls open the shattered door of Candela’s headquarters and collapses into ragged sobs in the stairwell. 

I remember all too well where we were at that hour—sitting on the sand. Staring at the dock. Telling ourselves he was fine. 

How wrong we were.  
  
Shaking off the memory, I realize I’m crying, and so is Ben. He’s shaking as I pull him into another hug.

“He saved you,” I say.

His arms tighten around me. “Yeah,” he says. “He did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: @tackmins


	4. Chapter 4

When we leave the building, Shelton shades his glasses and announces that we have about four hours before dark, so we’d better get a move on back to the dock. 

“Have we got any semblance of a plan?” he asks as we walk. His hands keep twitching, as if searching for a weapon, so I hand him the gun. “I assume we’re not doing the rational thing, like going back to find out what’s become of our families.” 

No one argues.

“Didn’t think so.” He exhales shakily. “So what is it, then? Stolowitski’s insane plan to escape into the mountains of North Carolina?”

“Last I checked, no one else was on board with that,” Hi says, but the hopeful look on his face betrays  his long-suffering tone.

I sigh. “Walk me through it, Hi. Hypothetically, how would this work?”

He doesn’t miss a beat, unrolling the map and aiming a finger at the dock. “Here’s where we left the boat. Head up the Cooper River as far as Lake Moultrie. That’s where we drop the boat and start walking.” 

“Walking,” Shelton repeats. “Like, from here. To _North Carolina._ Hiram, did you get hit in the head?”

“You got a better plan?” Hi gestures to the deserted streets. “Let’s hitch a ride from that nice gentleman over there. Oh, wait, I don’t think zombies have drivers licenses.”

“No, but we do,” I point out.

“That’s very true. Unfortunately, all our available rides are currently stuck on a zombie-infested island with no bridge. Unless you know how to jack a car, Victoria?”

I don’t. “Okay. Fill me in on the walk.”

“It’s about a week if we stay near the rivers.” Hi’s in full apocalypse mode, consulting his map. “We’ve got enough food and water for a few days, but—” 

“I’m not drinking river water,” Ben interrupts. “Not a chance. I don’t trust your shitty water filters.”

“Feel free to die of thirst, then,” Hi says, not even looking up from his map. “The rest of you, let’s go.”

I pause to tighten my shoelaces, and I feel a hand on my back. When I straighten, Ben falls into step beside me. 

_He still hasn’t forgiven me._

I squeeze his hand. “He’ll come around,” I whisper. 

_He might not,_ Shelton cuts in. I glance at him, but he’s walking next to Hi, facing away from us. _He’s pretty pissed off._

Ben sighs. _Someday, there will be a time when one of you isn’t freezing me out._

I direct my next thought towards Hi, blocking Ben and Shelton out. _It wasn_ _’_ _t his fault._

A pause. Then a tiny, almost imperceptible sigh. _I know._

_Then why can_ _’_ _t you forgive him?_

Hi doesn’t answer. I glare at his back, but he won’t turn.

…

 

BEN

I never expected being on the run from the entire zombified population of South Carolina to be so…boring. 

It didn't take long to motor up the river. The dock was deserted, thankfully, and we were able to make it up to Lake Moultrie without a hitch. As Hi instructed, we docked at the canal, unable to go any further, then began to unload supplies.

“Take as much as you can carry,” Tory instructed, weighed down by a backpack and a canteen of water. “This is going to be a long walk.”

But Hi seems to have found the route of least resistance; I haven’t seen a single human carcass or reanimated corpse in hours. 

Shelton, who I thought would be the most terrified of all of us, is in his element, quickly adapting to our precarious situation. Tory and Hi have entrusted him with the gun, and he’s constantly checking our surroundings like he thinks we’re in a video game. 

Cooper’s disappeared somewhere, off chasing a rabbit or something similar. Tory whistles for him a few times, but he stubbornly ignores her.

_Keep it down,_ I send to Hi, but I realize he’s got a stiff mental block in place, so I try again out loud. “Keep it down. Your footsteps.”

“You keep it down.” Hi crunches twigs and leaves even louder.

“I’m serious,” I say. “You’ll attract attention.”

Tory, beside me, pushes her hair back into a frizzy ponytail, looking exhausted and, as usual, is sweating buckets. “Give it a rest, Hiram.”

“I don’t—” Hi starts, but Shelton’s hand suddenly flies up, demanding silence. 

Tory’s eyes flicker to a clear blue as she inhales quickly, sniffing the air like a bloodhound. I’ll never get used to this stuff. _Nine o’clock. We’ve got company._

_Pleasant company?_ Shelton lifts the gun. _Or the kind of company that wants to rip our faces off?_

An earsplitting crash echoes through the trees.

“I’m guessing the latter,” I say. 

_Go!_ Tory shoves me forward and we run, bags slamming against our backs. Shelton fires once. Misses. Swears loudly in our heads.

_Where is it?_ I hiss.

“Shit!” Hi suddenly yells. “Twelve. And three. We’re surrounded.”

Tory looks coldly furious. _Not for long._

_I only hear three,_ Shelton says. _Hi, can you see any more?_

_Three,_ Hi confirms. _Tor?_

_Sounds right._ She extends a hand, and Shelton passes her the gun. 

_Anyone got a lighter?_ I ask.

I sense Shelton frowning at me. _Why a lighter?_

_Have you ever tried fire on these things? They go up like the Gamemaster_ _’_ _s house in a hurricane._

_Why would any of us have a lighter?_ Hi demands. No one answers.

Tory steadies the gun and fires at the closest zombie. It hits the creature dead-on, blowing a huge chunk out of its neck. She fires again, and the head separates from the body, sending it crumbling to the ground.

Hi lunges at the next zombie, slashing a deep cut in its arm. His knife spins out of his hand, landing in the leaves. _SHIT!_

They’re circling. One lunges at me. I duck. It turns to Hi, and he’s frozen as it advances towards him. I dive and knock him out of the way, and we both roll safely away as Shelton, wielding Hi’s fallen blade, drives a well-aimed slice to the creature’s neck, severing its head from its body.

Tory’s backed up against a tree, firing at the last approaching zombie. It refuses to fall, and the gun clicks, out of ammo. _Guys?_

I can’t get to her fast enough.

She's going to die.

As I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to watch, I hear ripping and shredding. The zombie lets out an inhuman shriek.

I still can’t watch.

I don’t know what’s happening.

Until I hear Tory _._

“Oh my God,” she pants.

“You saved us.” Shelton’s voice is shaken. 

I slowly open my eyes. There’s a gray blur on top of Tory, licking her face as she laughs breathlessly.

_Sister-friend._

…

 

SHELTON

Ben looks shell-shocked, and I’m hoping he didn’t just take a bite to the arm. But I watched Cooper bounce onto the scene and tear the zombie to shreds like it was his favorite chew toy. Sometimes it’s helpful to have a giant wolf on your side.

Tory’s hair is coated in dirt and leaves, but she’s never looked happier, even as she pulls a disgusting bit of gray skin from Cooper’s mouth. “Ugh. Your breath stinks.”

_Just destroyed enemy. Small price to pay._

Tory picks herself up off the ground and brushes the dirt from her cargo pants. “This freaking backpack keeps slamming directly onto my spine. I wish there was a way to stop it from bouncing.”

“Here.” Ben reaches for the buckle on the front of her bag and fastens it around her waist. “That should keep it still.”

Tory pushes a piece of sweaty hair from in front of her eyes. “Thanks,” she says softly.

Their facial expressions change minutely, and I can tell they’re having a conversation, but it’s always strange to see two people staring at each other without speaking. 

_Telepathy is weird,_ Hi agrees. He’s watching Ben with a guilty expression, and I remember watching Ben shove him out of the way of an attacking zombie. 

Ah. Ben saved his life, and he feels like an asshole that he’s been icing him out.

_Very weird._

_We could give them a run for their money in the_ _‘_ _grossest couple_ _’_ _category,_ Hi suggests jokingly, arching a brow at me. 

_Get lost in Charleston for a few days, make me think you_ _’_ _re almost definitely dead, and then we_ _’_ _ll talk._

Ben and Tory have quit staring sappily into each other’s eyes, and are now gathering our fallen supplies, so I kiss him quickly and start reloading the gun. We’ve got enough ammunition for another couple of attacks, but at some point we’ll have to restock.

I’m just hoping North Carolina is as free of zombies as Hi claims it to be. 

Thankfully, by nightfall, we reach a forest clearing off of Mulberry Drive, still on the Cooper River. According to Hi’s map, we've made a fair amount of progress, and we're near Monck’s Corner.

“Still very south South Carolina,” he says, stuffing the map back into his bag. “But away from Charleston. No one should bother us out here.”

“One of us should keep watch,” I say. “Just in case.”

“We’ll take shifts,” Tory yawns.

“And you will not be on the first one,” Ben says. “I’ll go first and wake Shelton up at midnight. Shelton, you wake Hi at 3, then Tory at 6.”

_Copy that,_ Tory says sleepily.

Hi passes out granola bars and digs into our stash of dog food for Cooper, but Tory’s already sound asleep, so Ben sets her ration aside. We eat in silence, all of us painfully aware that our food supply won’t last very long, and I curl up against a tree, head on my backpack, trying to get to sleep.

It doesn’t work. My hip is pressed against a root, and with my glasses off, I can’t make out any shapes in the trees, even though it isn’t fully dark yet. I hear a squirrel bounce on a branch overhead and suddenly feel very, very exposed, not under a roof.

I’ve never slept outside before. Not even on the beach. And the swampland we’re trudging through isn’t exactly a beach. At least the mosquitos are gone, wiped out by the initial toxin that started this whole garbage fire in the first place. 

When I finally do drift off, I dream of zombie squirrels and of Cooper eating us all.

…

 

HI

Shelton’s finally snoring. I worried he’d never get to sleep, and he’s so tired, he needs it more than the rest of us. Well, maybe not more than Tory. She always runs on a level of energy I can’t comprehend.

Anyway, I _definitely_ can’t sleep, so I try to sneak a look at Shelton’s dream without waking him, but it’s a blur of shapes and colors that makes me too dizzy to keep watching. (I guess the theory that we all see colors differently is true, because looking into Shelton’s mind is like seeing the world with a purple-ish filter. He doesn’t see colors as vividly as I do. None of the other Virals do.)

Ben reaches over to scratch Cooper behind the ears, and I feel another wave of guilt go through me. I knew the whole time that Ben not coming back to us wasn’t his fault, and I still had no reservations about taking it out on him.

Slowly standing, I cross to the log where Ben sits and drop down beside him. He doesn’t look up, scraping a rock against one of my knives to sharpen the blade.

“I’ve been unfair,” I start quietly, but Ben shakes his head, gesturing to our sleeping friends.

_Talk here_

_Right._ I swallow. _I’m sorry. I’m sorry I got angry. I know you had no way of getting back to us. I just…_

_Lost your family,_ Ben interrupts. _I know. I lost mine, too. And I was there for you to rage at._

Shit. He knows me better than I know myself.

_I’m sorry,_ I repeat. _Here I am, being an asshole, and you saved my damn life._

_Wouldn’t be the first time._ He passes me a memory—him pulling me through the tunnels under East Bay, out of the way of deadly traps. _And I doubt it will be the last._

He arm wraps me in a classic Bro Hug, the type Tory likes to make constant fun of, and I know he’s over a problem that never really existed in the first place. Coop snores beside us, content with his family reunited at last.

_Go to sleep,_ he says. _We’ve got a long walk, and I’m not going to be in the mood to drag you the whole way because you didn’t get any rest._

_What about you?_ I ask, and he knows I’m not talking about sleep.

_I’ll be okay,_ he says. _Really._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: @torybrennan


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly this chapter was so much longer before i cut a lot of useless dialogue

TORY

 

DAY 54

We manage to skip any encounters with zombies for three long, foot-dragging, sun-pounding days. We slog through creeks, dart through fields, step over fallen trees. We pass Lake Moultrie and Lake Marion and keep moving, following the winding river through Congaree National Park. By the time we reach Columbia, we're all sore and exhausted and running out of supplies quickly. Even Coop looks slightly irritated every time Ben insists we just _go a little further._

Shelton wipes sweat from his brow. “Please tell me we’re almost at the Carolina border.”

Hi winces. “We, uh…we’ve got a bit of a ways to go.”

“How far?” Shelton stares daggers. “How far, Hiram?”

“We’re about…” He trails off into incoherency. Ben grabs his map.

“We’re only halfway through South Carolina.” He tosses the map back at Hi. “I thought you said this would take a week!”

“That was a rough estimate,” Hi mumbles. “Clearly it’s taking a bit longer than that.”

“So another four to five days just to cross into North Carolina,” Shelton says. “That is, if we don’t get killed restocking in the city. And then what?”

“Then we hike through North Carolina, genius.” Hi takes in the group—we’ve all reluctantly scrubbed off in the dirty, freezing river at one point or another, but we’re disgustingly sweat-encrusted and we haven’t changed clothes in far too long. Hence our stop in Columbia. “The streets look deserted, but we need to be on high alert.”

I shake out my hair. “God, I’m ready for a shower. Which one of these houses looks the most deserted?”

Ben snags my arm and drags me behind a tree. Moments later, I hear the unmistakable shuffle of a zombie scooting past our hiding spot. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem to register our presence, continuing its search for human carcasses. 

Shelton exhales shakily. “Too close. We need to avoid contact, not alert every single one in the city to our presence.”

We step out of the trees and onto railroad tracks, now clearly abandoned. Shelton walks in front, checking out our surroundings for signs of undead, Hi balances precariously on top of the tracks, and Ben crunches along the gravel, unwilling to partake in any kind of fun. Cooper bounds at my side, excited at the prospect of working air conditioning.

_You are getting a bath,_ I tell him sternly, and he snorts angrily.

“Wish we had a working phone.” Hi holds up his own, essentially just a brick, for emphasis. “We could take some cool railroad pictures.”

“We are in full view of anyone who cares to glance out their window right now,” Ben says. “You wanna be an idiot and get yourself shot before we even get a chance to clean up?”

Hi rolls his eyes. _Buzzkill._

We finally reach an intersecting road, and Ben shades his eyes against the sun and peers down the street. “This looks promising. Wanna pick the biggest house?”

“I got y’all covered.” Shelton digs in his bag for his lock picks as we start up the street. “Okay. Let’s pick one in the middle of a bunch of others. Less chance of detection.”

“I hope these haven’t all been raided already,” I say anxiously. “Okay. How about this one? Number 806.” It's a house that looks particularly well-kept compared to the others around it, and I'm hoping whoever had previously lived in it left it in working condition. 

“Looks deserted enough for me.” Shelton kneels by the door lock, passing me the gun. After a minute, the door swings open.

Empty.

Ben hoots. Shelton lets out a long sigh of relief.

“I call first shower!” Hi yells, pounding up the stairs. 

“I’ll go check out the kitchen,” I say, unable to keep a smile from forming. “There’s bound to be some food left. The air conditioning still works, too.”

“I can plug our phones in!” Shelton says. “There’s gotta be chargers somewhere.”

“Great.” I hand him my cell and head through the first door I find.

And find myself staring down the barrel of a gun.

Horrified, I raise my eyes to the holder’s—and almost fall over.

Standing in front of me, looking every bit as shocked as I am, is Chance Claybourne.

…

“What are you doing here?”

The question bursts from both of us. 

Chance recovers first. “I _own_ this house! What the hell do you think you’re doing, breaking in?”

“How was I supposed to know?” Quick as lightning, I snatch the gun from his hands and pocket it, ducking my head so he won’t see the blue in my eyes. Willing them to fade back to turquoise.

“Who else is with you?” Chance demands. “How did you find this place?”

“Just the guys and Cooper,” I say. “We don’t know what happened to our parents. We had to leave Morris, and we got separated.”

Chance is taking in my rugged appearance, starting to piece together that we didn’t just drive here in a day. “Did you four… _walk?_ All the way from Charleston?”

_Tory!_ Hi’s voice crashes my head. _I just found the master bedroom—you’re not going to believe who this place belongs to._

Chance is watching me. “What the hell just happened to your eyes?”

“Nothing,” I say sharply. _Yeah. I think I will. Everyone come down to the kitchen, now. We have company._

Shelton’s thoughts are panicked. _Zombie?_

_Something worse than that._

“What are you _staring_ at?” Chance snaps his fingers in front of my face. “Tory!”

The kitchen door swings open and the boys pile in, Shelton with the gun in his hands, pointed directly at Chance.

There’s a long pause as the four boys gape at each other. Then, “You have _got_ to be kidding me,” Ben spits.

“What’s he doing here?” Shelton demands.

“This is my house!” Chance explodes. “ _How did you find me?”_

“We weren’t looking for you, rich boy.” Ben stalks over to the cabinets. “Got any food?”

“You can’t take my food,” Chance grits. 

Ben smiles humorlessly, irises muddying. “You could try to stop me.”

“Enough!” I shout. “Chance, I’m sorry. We’ll leave. Are any of your neighbors still around?”

Chance, still only examining me, looks like he’s debating his next words. “Yes,” he says finally. “This area isn't safe. But I’ll let you crash here for a few days. On one condition.”

“You’re in no position to be making deals with us,” Ben says. “We outnumber you, five to one.”

_Shut up!_ I glare at Ben. _He’s offering us food and a place to stay. What issue could you possibly have with that?_

_This is Chance,_ Ben reminds me. _Nothing comes without a price._

Chance is looking between us, so I hastily break eye contact with Ben and snuff my flare. “What condition, Chance?”

“You take me with you,” he says. “Wherever you’re going. We can even drive.” He snatches his car keys off the counter. “It’s only a matter of time before the raiders find my place, anyway—that’s who I thought you all were. And if you have somewhere to go…”

_Absolutely not,_ Ben hisses.

Shelton looks dubious. _I mean…I’m a little tired of walking._

_I drew us a map!_ Hi says, outraged.

_We can still use it in a car,_ I remind him. _GPS might not work so well these days._

_No._ Ben folds his arms.

“There’s no way the four of you can make this decision without actually talking about it,” Chance says uncertainly. “Right?”

_We’ve made the decision already,_ Ben says. _We’re not seriously considering dragging this douchebag along for the ride, are we?_

_He is already suspicious,_ Shelton acknowledges.

_But…_ Hi makes a face. _A place to sleep, for a few nights. In a real bed. Under a roof._

_We’ve been sleeping outside for four days,_ I remind him. _It’s not the end of the world to spend another._

_It actually is the end of the world,_ he starts, but Chance is whipping his head between the four of us, disbelieving.

“Okay,” he says. “One of two things is happening right now. Either you four have gotten really good at arguing through facial expressions, or you’re flaring again.”

“We are not,” I say automatically.

“Victoria, I’m not stupid—”

“No,” Ben says. “We’re not taking you with us. We’ll find another house.”

“You could,” Chance says pleasantly. “You’d risk running into the raiders, though, and I hear they’re quite unpleasant.”

_Damn._ Shelton shifts from foot to foot. _He’s got a point. I just want to stop running and killing for a few days. Hell, a few hours._

I smile sadly at my friend. _Let’s just start with a roof over our heads, for now._

_Unbelievable._ Ben scowls.

I turn to Chance. “Fine. We accept. But as soon as we get to our destination, you’re on your own.”

“Fine by me,” Chance says immediately. 

“Okay.” I exhale. “I’m going to take a shower. And then I’m going to wash off my dog. And then I’m going to eat some food. And then I’m going to sleep for a very long time, and if any of you decide to wake me up, I will be very angry, and I will probably order Coop to rip you to shreds.”

Cooper cocks his head at me. _Not others._

I give him a half-smile. _Maybe Chance._

_Not a problem._

“This conversation isn’t over,” Chance murmurs to me as the others disperse. “I know you’re hiding something from me.”

“You’ve known that the whole time,” I say. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to tell you what it is.”

A ghost of a smile. “Not yet, anyway.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: @torybrennan


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> drama time motherfuckers

SHELTON

 

DAY 55

When I wake up, Hi is still asleep, so I wash up and head down to the kitchen. Chance is sitting at the counter, slowly eating a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. “Morning,” he says.

I nod in acknowledgment and wander over to the cabinets. Tory may have a morbid fascination with being Chance’s friend, but to me, he’ll always be the guy who put us all in danger and forced us to give up our powers to survive. So, no, I don’t feel like being buddy-buddy with Chance Claybourne over breakfast cereal.

I locate bread in the freezer and shove a few slices into Chance's high-tech toaster, though I’m not sure I understand how to work it. After pressing a few buttons and hoping for the best, I unplug my phone from the charging port on the counter and power it on.

Two new notifications. One from my mom, and one from my dad. I’m thrilled until I notice the date: five days ago. 

My heart sinks. Those are old, from before I left.  

Apple News is down. Instagram is down. Even Twitter has finally succumbed. The Internet is effectively offline, and if my parents are trying to reach me, it isn’t going through. 

“Anything?”

Absorbed in my phone, it takes me a second to realize Chance is talking to me. “No.”

He’s observing me with a strange look that makes me extraordinarily uncomfortable, and I’m relieved when the toaster beeps and I can look away. But he doesn’t give up, pushing his chair back from the counter and walking over to the fridge.

“So,” he says, a tad too casual, poking around on the top shelf of the fridge, “you can flare again, huh?”

I drop the peanut butter jar I’m holding. “No. What makes you think that?”

“Come on, Devers.” Chance shuts the fridge, leans against the door. “You can pass on whatever bullshit Tory’s feeding you, but we both know the truth. You four are doing…something. You can communicate just a little too well without words for plausibility.” He steps closer, threatening. “And Tory’s eyes keep turning blue.”

“Get away from me, Chance,” I say quietly.

“Tell me the truth.”

“No.” 

He looks triumphant, like I’ve conceded, and I think I have—Tory’s going to kill me, but all I can think about right now is how manipulative Chance is, cornering me alone, thinking I’m the weakest link.

_Am I the weakest link?_

The door flies open, and Chance easily steps back, like we’re just having a casual chat in the kitchen. It’s Ben, and the only thing I can think is that he desperately needs a haircut, but his eyes darken upon seeing us and I know he knows exactly what Chance is doing.

He flicks a glance at me.  _What just happened?_

I replay the conversation for him, and a scowl twists his face. Chance, busy with another bowl of cereal, doesn’t seem to notice.

“Tory up yet?” I ask innocently.

“Nope.”

Chance eyes us suspiciously, but doesn’t say a word.

_What are we going to do about him?_ I send, putting the peanut butter back in the cabinet.  _Tory’s going to flip her shit._

_She can’t,_ Ben says darkly.  _That would be confirming Chance’s theory._

_I kind of already did!_

“Super silent in here,” Chance observes. 

Ben slams a fist on the counter. “Claybourne, one more word out of you and I’ll make sure  _you_ stay silent for the rest of your goddamn life.”

Chance barely looks fazed. “So violent, Benjamin. Are you worried about the various secrets I’m stumbling upon?”

_Let it go,_ I warn. Ben glares at me but lets the taunt slide.

The door swings open again and Hiram waltzes in, still in a pair of Chance’s pajamas. “Good morning, comrades. How did we all sleep?”

“Fabulous,” Ben deadpans.

“Probably, since you were rooming with Tory.” Hi gives an exaggerated wink, then raises his hands in surrender when Ben glowers at him. “Yeah, okay, whatever. Speaking of Queen Victoria, where is she?"

“Probably still sleeping,” I say.

“No, she’s awake,” Hi says immediately. 

Chance drops his spoon. “How do you know that?”

Hi raises an eyebrow at us, then turns to Chance. “I heard her shuffling around in her room.”

_What’s with the sudden fascination?_

_Chance knows about our powers. He just can’t prove it,_ I say.

_Fuck_ _’_ _s sake._

Tory, still upstairs, breaks into the conversation.  _What the hell is happening down there?_

_Chance,_ Ben grumbles. 

_Stop antagonizing him!_

_He_ _’_ _s antagonizing us,_ Hi shoots back.

Quickly, I replay my encounter with Chance again. By the time I’m finished, I can practically feel Tory seething upstairs, and Hi’s mouth is almost hanging open.

_That asshole,_ Tory fumes.  _If you guys want to bail and walk up to the mountains ourselves, I’d be totally fine with that._

_Sounds good._ Ben immediately caps the water bottle he’s drinking from.  _Let’s go._

I glance at Hi. He looks as reluctant as I feel.

Ben senses the hesitation.  _What?_

_He_ _’_ _s not bad enough for us to walk for another four days,_ Hi wheedles.  _We can just load up the car with supplies today and leave tomorrow._

_Unbelievable,_ Ben growls. 

_Then we stay,_ Tory says decidedly. 

Sighing, Ben picks up the water bottle again. “Goddamn it,” he says quietly.

“Tory convinced you to stay?" 

We all jump, having forgotten Chance is watching us.

 “Don’t be ridiculous,” Ben says calmly. “Tory’s upstairs.”

“I know that look on your face,” Chance informs him. “And I know you’re communicating. I just don’t know how.” 

Hi meets his stare dead-on. “Prove it.”

… 

BEN

 

Hi and Shelton aren’t the best secret keepers. So far, they’ve both all but confirmed to Chance what we can do, which is not at all helpful to the constant denial we’re trying to keep up. 

I’m currently in the room Tory and I are sharing, picking through the closet, trying to figure out what to bring with us and what to leave behind. (There are a  _lot_ of clothes here. Even some girl’s clothes that are about Tory’s size, which she found utterly horrifying for a few seconds before realizing that they must have belonged to Hannah.) 

_Gross,_ Shelton says.  _Guys, there are spiders in this attic. How are they alive? I thought the virus killed off all the bugs!_

_Spiders aren’t bugs,_ Tory chimes in. She’s downstairs, helping Chance sort food. 

_They eat bugs! They should still be dead!_

_Maybe they mutated._ Amusement laces Hi’s thought, and he accompanies it with an image of a giant Acromantula from  _Harry Potter_. Distant horrified shrieking echoes from Shelton’s mind, and I have to fight not to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Chance’s voice floats through the floors from downstairs.

“Nothing,” Tory replies airily. “Just remembered a joke.”

“Care to share?”

“I'm good.”

We all work in silence for a while until Hi, who’s cleaning out Chance’s room, suddenly guffaws.  _He brought his lacrosse trophies here._

_Can’t leave those vitally important objects at home for the zombies,_ Shelton mocks. Then,  _Oh, God, I just walked into a cobweb._

_Are you finding anything useful up there?_ Tory asks. 

_Yeah. Duffel bags and stuff. Ooh, boxes of Hannah_ _’_ _s things._

_Shelton—_ Tory starts, exasperated, but I can hear Hi, down the hall, abandon Chance’s room.

_On my way! Don’t open it without me._

I do kind of want to see this, so I close my eyes. It takes a little bit of effort—I’ve never been as good at this as Tory—but I manage to push out of my own headspace and into Hi’s. After a wobbly adjustment, I find myself climbing the ladder to the attic through Hi’s eyes.

Shelton’s knelt on the floor over a dusty box. “Hey, Hi. And Ben.”

_I will never get over how trippy this is,_ I say.  _It_ _’_ _s like being a video game character. I have no control over what you do, but I can see everything you see._

“Let’s check out this box.” Hi reaches over to open it. “Jesus. Water damage, much?”

Shelton frowns. “Nothing else in this attic is water damaged.” 

I sense Tory shifting into Hi’s mind.  _That looks singed,_ she says. _Maybe there was a fire?_

“Maybe he set it on fire,” Shelton crows, “and then immediately put it out.”

_Let me see._ Tory seizes control—yet another thing the rest of us can’t do—and reaches into the box for the top set of photos. A few of them are burned around the edges, but the top one is of Chance and Hannah at junior prom. They’re holding hands, and Chance looks incredibly happy, but there’s a glint in Hannah’s eyes that betrays her cheerful smile.

_Plotting,_ Tory says. _Even then._

A crash echoes from downstairs, and Tory abruptly retreats into her own head. “Sorry, Chance,” I hear. “Wasn’t paying attention.”

“Yes,” Chance says testily. “I noticed. You’ve been frozen for the last three minutes, like you’d been possessed.”

“Or vice versa,” Tory says lightly, and Shelton snorts.

_Ask Chance whether there’s anything useful in this godforsaken attic,_ Shelton demands, and Tory passes on the question.

“Tell your friends to get out of the attic.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Tory answers lightly.

“Like this.” He raises his voice, shouts directly into Tory's ear. “GET OUT OF THE ATTIC!”

Snorting with laughter, Hi scrambles down the ladder as I retreat back into my own mind.

…

Loading Chance’s minivan proves to be a backbreaking task. The heir himself is no help, directing us all like a pretentious traffic controller. Only Tory’s warning voice in my mind keeps me from ripping his head off.

“Benjamin.” The infuriating asshole has the audacity to snap his fingers at me. “Run up and grab my duffel. I need a sweater in it.

I step forward. “Why don’t you run up and—”

“Chance!” Tory snaps. “Ben isn’t your errand boy. Get your own bag.”

“Actually, your duffel is in the van, Hi put it in there an hour ago,” Shelton points out.

Tory’s arms fold. “Where is Hi now?”

Shelton shrugs. “I’m not in charge of him.”

An earsplitting crash echoes from upstairs. Chance winces.

_Sorry._ Hi. _I think I broke the bookshelf._

“What did he do?” Chance demands.

“Absolutely nothing.” Shelton scoots towards the stairs. “Excuse me for a moment. For totally unrelated reasons.”

Chance rolls his eyes as I step out of the room. “Tory, you have fascinating taste in friends.”

“Over the line,” Tory warns. “They’re family.”

I pause outside the door as Chance snorts. “I was never family. Not even when I was Viral.”

“You never wanted to be family, Chance. I saw your file on me.”

“You saw five lines of it.”

“Five lines too many.” Her voice is quiet. “And about five months too late.” 

“Too late,” Chance repeats. I flatten my ear against the door, blocking Tory from my mind so that she can’t sense my location. “What, because of Ben?”

“Because you manipulated me from the moment I met you. Because you shot at me in the woods. Because of _Jimmy_ _Newman._ Because you made us break you out of a mental hospital. Because you kept files on us. Bullied us into talking. Created an entire pack of newborn Virals that called the feds on us and almost got us all killed. And tricked me into falling for you every step of the way.”

Chance is silent. I can’t breathe.

“So…” She shuffles. “It didn’t work, Chance. I moved on. I fell in love with Ben.”

His voice is flat. “You kissed me on my office floor.”

She huffs. “Four and a half years ago! I can’t even believe you remember that.”

“Like I said, Tory. I might be a little obsessed.”

I can feel the tension ease as they both laugh.

“So. Ben, huh?” Chance shakes his head. “I guess that isn’t going to change.”

“No,” Tory says firmly. “It isn’t.” 

He scoffs. “Are you going to marry him?”

Amusement laces her voice. “I’m nineteen, Chance. But…that’s the hope, yes.” 

The breath I’m holding finally releases. Steadily.

I’ve misread this whole conversation. This isn’t Tory lamenting what could have been. This is Tory telling Chance to accept what is.

I head into the kitchen, pondering over the conversation in my head.

Tory had kissed Chance in his office _._ That could only have happened on the night she stayed there with him. The night I had begged her not to hook up with him, and she had calmly told me that she was there to set a trap for the Trinity. _And the night after I kissed her. Okay. Wow._ Four and a half years ago aside…

Tory had also seen Chance’s files on her. Something she hadn’t even shared with me. Which meant, logically, that she knew I’d be mad about them. Which also meant that there was something to be mad about. I didn’t even really want to think about that one.

Tory had fallen for Chance. Multiple times. Only his deliberate manipulation of her had snapped her out of it. Whether or not she would have chosen me over a kinder him, I don’t know.

But she did choose me.

And someday, she wants to marry me. She told Chance to _move on._

I snag Hi’s sleeve as he passes. “Hey. Tory ever tell you what was in those files Chance kept with her name on them?”

“No. But probably just the usual ‘I’d have gotten away with it if it weren’t for those meddling island kids’ stuff,” Hi answers.

“I got the impression they were more personal.”

“Come on, man. That was a long time ago.” Hi resumes dragging his giant bag of food rations out to the van. “Lighten up. Chance isn’t out to get your goat. Or your girl, for that matter."

He’s probably right.

I grab a bag and lift it over my shoulder. Chance or no Chance, we're still leaving first thing in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still on tumblr @peppermintack


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been TOO long since i updated and i can't believe im focusing on a virals fic when chrysalis drops in just over 2 days but i fucking guess this is happening

DAY 56

We set off at dawn. Chance drives, Tory sits in the passenger seat, and I squeeze in back with Hi and Shelton. I can tell they’re mind-chatting, and I try to slip into their conversation, but they slam up their mental walls to block me out. Feeling ignored, I direct my thoughts toward Tory, but she’s huddled over Hi’s map with Chance in the front seat, so I’m on my own. Fantastic. 

Coop nudges me from the back of the car. _Still here._

_Hey, bud._ I scratch behind his ears. _They’re all so annoying, aren’t they?_

Coop huffs, and I almost laugh. He doesn’t catch sarcasm well. _It’s okay. I still love them,_ I reassure him, and he looks mollified. 

“Ben.” Tory snaps me back to attention, and I return my focus to the front seat. “I need you to be the lookout, okay? I’m navigating, Chance is driving, and Hi and Shelton are going to zone out and start playing the license plate game if I put them in charge. So I’m trusting you.” Her bright eyes meet mine. “You good?”

I snap a sarcastic salute. “Aye aye, Captain Brennan.” 

She ignores me and turns back to Chance. “We good to go?” 

He cranks the ignition. “Let’s roll."  

… 

The highway is littered with abandoned cars. 

The road looks like hell was released upon it. At one point, we have to stop so I can break the window of a car, set it to neutral, and muscle it out of our way. We all watch it smash through the highway barrier and burst into flames. 

Hi wins the license plate game. 

… 

“Pick a likely place,” Chance instructs. We’ve been wandering the mountains for thirty minutes while Hi racks his memory for where he was before.  

“Here.” Hi points towards a long driveway. A swing-set sits at the end of it. A garden rests in the front yard, covered by a tarp to protect from weather. There’s a fire pit surrounded by benches, a small but clearly modern structure across the yard, and a sizeable main house. Behind the house, a giant forest stretches up the mountain. 

Hi whistles. “What a property.”

“Let’s hope no one’s home,” I say darkly, grabbing the gun as we pull up the long driveway. 

Chance shifts to park. There’s no sign of movement in the house or the yard.  

“Let's scope it out,” Hi instructs. “Shelton and I will check the...outpost, Ben and Tory will take the house.” 

“And me?” Chance waves a hand. “Hello?”

“You’re not a Viral,” Hi says dismissively. “Stay in the car.” 

Chance bristles. “I can still—” 

“Just wait,” Tory interrupts. “Please? Let our super senses take a look first.” 

Chance glowers. “Fine. But for God's sake, be quick about it.”

…

Once Shelton and Coop have deemed the property free of people, we leave Chance unloading bags from the car.

“I guess not a ton of people stayed out here,” Hi says, looking slightly stupefied.

Shelton, next to me, is shivering from the cold mountain air. Tory looks thoughtful, surveying the abandoned farm. Cooper sniffs thoroughly around the building Hi dubbed the Outpost.

_Cats,_ he says insistently. _Two._

Hi, still missing Banjo, looks excited, but Tory glances at the wolfdog. _I don_ _’_ _t think they're_ _still here._

_Might be,_ Cooper replies petulantly. 

“Let’s check out the house,” I say. 

“I’ll see what’s salvageable from the garden,” Hi volunteers, already heading for the rows of wilted vegetables.

Shelton starts edging towards the Outpost. “I’ll be in here. Inside. Not in the cold.”

Tory doesn’t say anything as we walk across the wide lawn, and I can’t tell what she’s thinking. The swings at the end of the drive move lazily in the wind. The door to the house isn’t locked, and thankfully it’s warm inside. Somehow, the heating system is still working.

“Look,” Tory says, pulling me back outside and pointing to the roof. “Solar panels.”

I smile, though the setup reminds me of the bunker with a fierce pang of sadness. I miss my father, of course, with a ragged, desperate pain that I know will never quite fade entirely. But I also miss everyone else on Morris—our neighbors, the other parents. Even Ruth Stolowitski and her ridiculous neighborhood watch. 

Tory takes my hand. _I miss home, too._

“At least we’re all here,” I say shakily. Despite the odds, despite everything, we made it all the way here. “The five of us. You, me, Hi, Shelton, Cooper.”

“Six." Chance, always with his personal two cents, is lugging a duffel bag through the door behind us. “Nice digs. Do I get first bedroom pick?”

“Not a zombie in sight!” Hi crows, stepping through the door after Chance, arms full of vegetables. “There are six different types of kale in this garden.”

“Fabulous,” Chance deadpans. “Kale.” 

Hi waves a hunk of dark green leaves with slightly ragged edges. “This isn’t just kale. This is _dinosaur kale_ , guys. Just you wait. We’re having the best salad ever for dinner.”

“Make sure none of the food is zombified,” Chance drawls.  

“I’ll let you be the taste tester,” Hi says. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Shelton slides through the door and shuts it. “The Outpost is a kitchen,” he reports. “Fully functioning, with a working refrigerator and freezer. There’s also a barbecue outside, but I don’t think we have any fuel on hand. Or any meat, for that matter.”

“This is North Carolina,” Hi says. “We can hunt.”

Chance snorts. “Like any of you have the foggiest clue how to do that.” 

Shelton waves dismissively. “We’re Virals. We can figure it out.” 

“That you are,” Chance says. “You know your dog DNA isn't the magic solution to everything in life, right?” 

“It's the magic solution to something,” Tory counters, heading for the stairs. “We survived the end of the world, didn’t we?”


	8. Chapter 8

There are three bedrooms, once again. The master bedroom, which I’m sharing with Tory. A spare room, which Hi and Shelton claimed. And a room that clearly used to belong to a preteen girl named Opal that Chance is not pleased to be unceremoniously escorted to.

“This is the smallest bed I’ve ever slept in,” he grumbles.

“Get use to it.” Hi claps him on the shoulder. “You could sleep outside, if you want.”

The previous owners of our room, presumably the parents of that kid, left almost all of their stuff behind when they ran. There are clothes here that fit both of us, and we shelve some for Hi, Shelton and Chance as well. Tory unpacks her bag, setting a few dog figurines on the windowsill from the bottom of her bag. Her water bottle goes on the nightstand, a few of her favorite books next to it, her spare clothes in the closet, her phone plugged into the wall outlet. Toothbrush and nearly empty tube of toothpaste on the bathroom counter, hairbrush next to it. 

Her shoulders sag slightly as she looks at the unfamiliar room dotted with her possessions, the only things she has left in the world, and I walk over to her and wrap my arms around her, resting my chin on her shoulder. She turns her head and kisses my cheek, and I feel her mood lift slightly.

“I wish I had any way of knowing,” she says quietly, and I know what she means. Even though my father is dead, hers could still be alive, and with phone communications down, she has no clue.

Briefly, I wonder again if my mother is alive, but I never had much hope of that. _She would have come for me. If she was alive, she would have found me first._

_Maybe she just had no way of getting to you._ Tory, as usual, is reading my mind—literally. _When this is all over, we’ll go look for her. I swear._

_Okay._

_Don_ _’_ _t give up yet._

_Always the optimist,_ I say, and she smiles slightly.

There’s a knock on the door. _You two hooking up, or can I come in?_

“Come in,” Tory calls, rolling her eyes, and Shelton walks through the door, looking thoroughly disgruntled.

“Cold showers,” he declares, shaking droplets of water from his close-cropped hair. “No hot water unless we make a goddamn fire or something.”

“Are we surprised?” I ask. “We’re miles from civilization in a zombie apocalypse. I didn’t expect a fully furnished resort.”

“We should have gone to the desert.” Despite Shelton’s words, I can sense a contentment I haven’t felt in a long time radiating from his thoughts. “Does anyone know how to make soap? Because we’re going to run out eventually.”

“First things first,” Tory says. “Water. Does anyone know if the water quality around here is drinkable?”

“Actually, I do.” Hi wanders in behind Shelton, a stack of reference books in his hand. “Whoever lived here was incredibly self-sufficient. There’s a well somewhere on the property, and an outhouse somewhere in the woods, in case our plumbing breaks down, and the mountain stream is totally fine to drink from. Plus, there’s no one else around here to pollute it, not anymore. There’s a whole guide about how to clean and cook animals for dummies, and stores of seeds to plant.” His face is glowing as he passes a book to Tory. “We might actually survive here.”

“This is all great and fine,” I interrupt. “But what about winter? You can’t grow food in winter.”

“It won’t be easy,” Hi agrees. “But we have Chance’s rations, and if we can manage to store enough food, we should be okay.”

Shelton huffs. “I hope you know what you’re doing."

“That is not the spirit of the revolution,” Hi lectures. “Some positivity in this house, please."

Tory suppresses a smile. “Just tell us what you need us to do, Hi.”

“Better!” Hi grabs the book back. “First, I’m going to take a nap.”

…

TORY

The guys collect wood for a fire, and we sit outside, on the benches around the fire pit. Chance returns with a handful of pine needle branches, and I frown.

“That’s all you got?”

“You say that now.” He stretches his legs out, glances around. “I have to hand it to you guys. You picked a really great place to hide out.”

“Yeah.” I glance at the gun sitting on the bench beside me. _Good, but not good enough to not carry that thing everywhere._ “Hi found it, so give the credit to him.”

“I thought Blue was the wilderness expert.”

I cut a glance over at him, trying to decide if that was supposed to be a dig at Ben. But Chance’s face is thoughtful as he watches the other Virals gather firewood.

“Oi, Claybourne!” Hiram yells. “What are you doing, sitting down?”

Chance elbows me. “And why aren’t you taxing yourself like the rest of us?”

I hold up the gun. “Zombie watch.”

_Why’s the rich boy not doing any of the heavy lifting?_ Ben needles, and I roll my eyes. 

“Ben wants you to get back to work.”

“ _Zombie watch_ ,” Chance mocks. “That’s my job next time.”

There’s a crashing in the trees next to me, and my head snaps up. _Hi? Did you fall over?_

_Who, me? I_ _’_ _m an athlete,_ Hi answers, but his thoughts are directed from much farther to the left of where I thought he was. _Light on my feet. I don_ _’_ _t fall._

_We all heard you,_ Shelton says, also in the opposite direction of the noise. _Way to keep your dignity._

_That wasn_ _’_ _t me,_ Hi insists. _Ben?_

But I can see Ben, standing at the tree line, a particularly large stick over his shoulder.

I grab the gun, pointing it into the trees. _Nobody move. Stay on alert._

_Where is it?_ Ben asks, calm despite the circumstances.

An inhuman shriek echoes through the trees and spills across the lawn.

_Right behind you._

Quick as lightning, Ben whips the branch off his shoulder and it collides directly with the zombie, knocking it into a tree. I run for the woods, swinging the rifle up and trying to get a clear shot.

_Ben, get out of the way!_

He dives. I fire. It clips the zombie in the shoulder and I hear it let out another scream.

“Let me,” Chance says at my shoulder, trying to take the gun. “Here, Tory, I can—” 

“Get off me,” I say flatly, and fire again. This time, it catches the neck, and the zombie collapses.

There’s a collective wave of relief radiating from the four of us. Chance just looks disgruntled.

“I could have taken it in one shot,” he says. “I could have—”

“Give it a rest, Claybourne.” Ben strides over to the fire and bends down, striking flint to start the fire as if the attack had never happened. “Tory handled it fine. There’s a reason she’s on watch.”

Chance looks slightly abashed at his earlier mockery, and I stifle a smile as a spark catches on Ben’s little pile of straw and dry leaves. He blows gently on it to raise the flames, and soon tendrils are licking at the assortment of firewood the guys have managed to collect.

I raise an eyebrow at the pine needles that Chance is still holding. “So?”

“Watch this.” Chance tosses the whole handful into the fire just as Hi and Shelton approach, and the fire explodes upwards in a colorful burst of red and orange. Sparks snap in the air, and I see Chance’s delighted face as the fire becomes an inferno for just a second before beginning to die back down.

Hi looks like Christmas has come early. “How did you do that?”

“Pine needles,” Chance says. “Be careful, though. Not too many at once.”

And we spend the next half hour each tossing handfuls of pine needles into the fire, cheering each time the fire erupts into vivid lights. Even Ben has a small smile on his face as we sit two to a bench, Hi with Shelton, Chance with me, and Ben with Cooper. I stretch out my hand across the benches and Ben takes it.

…

DAY 65

It rains the next week, and we walk as far up the mountain as we can go until we break out of the lowest cloud bank and rays of sunlight shoot through the clouds to fall directly on our faces.

“Still cold?” Ben asks Shelton.

“Always.”

We’re still laughing as we walk down back into the rain, but we stop cold when we see a figure outside the house, peering through the windows.

“There might be more,” I say, lifting my gun, but the girl turns, and her hood falls back, and I see her face, and it’s not the look of the undead. It’s the look of someone who has finally found what she’s been searching for.

“Wait,” Chance says quietly, drawing in a breath. “That’s not a zombie.”

Hi squints. “Is that…”

I nod.

“It’s Ella.”

I keep my gun up as we approach the door. Just in case. Just in case I’m wrong.

But I recognize her pale green eyes, her long black hair. She holds her hands above her head as we approach. Her eyes skip past Hi, Shelton, then Ben, lock on me for a moment, and then widen at Chance.

“What’s he doing here?” she demands. Her voice is reedy and strained, and I wonder how long she’s been traveling. _And how she found us._

“What are _you_ doing here?” Shelton counters.

“Some of us want to know both of those things,” Ben says.

I lower the gun. “How did you find us, Ella?”

She holds up her phone. “iFollow.”

“iFollow still _works?_ ” Hi asks, dumbfounded.

“Shockingly. I was able to track you most of the way through South Carolina, although you lost me around Goose Creek.” Her eyes shift to the house. “However, there appears to be working Wi-Fi here, so…you’re connected. Anyone who has you on iFollow can find your exact location.”

I immediately reach for my phone, but Ben grabs my wrist. “Wait.”

_We can’t have people tracking us here,_ I hiss. Though I was glad to see Ella alive and safe, she put a strain on our already low resources. _Especially people we don’t want to see._

_What about the people we do want to see?_ he retorts, and sends images my way, one after the other. Kit. Myra. Nelson. Lorelei. Linus. Ruth. I see a brief flash of Tom’s face, quickly stifled.

_None of them have us on iFollow!_

_Um, guys,_ Hi cuts in. _Are we telling Ella about our extra-special_ _telepathic powers? Because she looks pretty confused by the fact that you_ _’_ _re just staring at each other._

We both jump, turning to face Ella, who has both eyebrows practically raised to her hairline. “Are you going to tell Tory what to wait for, or are you just going to stare at each other all day?”

“Come on,” Chance says softly. “You know as well as I do. They finally admitted it.”

Ella’s eyes light in understanding, and she looks accusingly at me. I hold her gaze.

“You lied to me,” she says. “You’ve had your powers all this time.” Her expression is borderline disgusted as she glances between the four of us. “Did you ever even take the serum at all?”

“Yes!” Shelton exclaims defensively. “We didn’t ask for this. The virus…mutated, somehow. Our powers aren’t the same.”

“We’ll talk about…that…later.” Ella gestures to the door, which we locked before we left. “I’m freezing, and I want to know if you’re going to let me stay here.”

I glance at Hi. _Do we have enough food?_

_We can’t turn her away,_ Hi says. _We’ll manage. We don’t turn people away._

_Where_ _’_ _s she going to sleep?_ Shelton looks around. _The couch?_

A hint of a smirk flits across Ben’s face. _Chance should take the couch, and Ella gets Opal's old room._

_We can’t kick Chance out of his room,_ Shelton grumbles.

_And we can_ _’_ _t really afford to take Ella in, but we_ _’_ _re doing that, aren_ _’_ _t we?_

“Okay, everyone shut up so I can hear myself think,” I say, letting an edge into my voice. “Ella, you can, of course, stay with us. But I just want to let you know now that rations are already pretty stretched for winter. We’ll prepare as best we can, but…”

“I understand,” she says quietly. “What can I do to help?”

“I can teach you to hunt,” Chance immediately volunteers. A distressed look crosses her face so quickly I almost don’t notice it, but she nods.

“Would you rather share Chance’s room or sleep on the couch?” I ask, glancing between them. The last I’d heard from either of them, they were a couple, but judging by the fact that they’d come here separately and the look I just saw flash across Ella’s face, I’m guessing they aren’t anymore. 

“Couch,” she says immediately.

“You can have the room,” Chance says. “I’ll take the sofa.”

_Wow, and to think he was campaigning for the master bedroom just last week,_ Hi quips.

As Chance heads upstairs to pack his stuff back up again, Ella leans forward to hug me. I let her, and a few strands of hair loose from her matted braid brush against my face.

“You have no idea,” she says, “how glad I am to see you.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry for what you're about to read

SHELTON 

DAY 86

After Ella’s arrival, we fall very quickly into a pattern that consumes most of our days. 

Hi and Ben are constantly consulting books and inspecting the garden, setting up a planting and watering schedule for the moment spring comes. Hi’s also found a root cellar and begun to store long-lasting vegetables in it, despite the fact that it’s only September. 

Despite Ella’s initial unhappiness upon seeing Chance, the two of them have taken on the task of hunting. He and Tory join forces to teach her how to shoot, and once she catches on, they do fairly well. The rest of us keep a running joke that the four of us should really be the ones hunting, as the designated wolf pack, but it seems to still be a sore subject for them, so Ben’s the only one still harping on that joke.

Meanwhile, Tory and I are exploring, methodically raiding abandoned houses. Some days, we find a good cache of supplies—clothes, food, blankets, firewood—and other days we don’t find much of anything. We’ve only had three zombie run-ins so far.

Until our fourth. The day Tory decides we need to turn off iFollow for good.

We’ve just left a cottage in the middle of the woods, practically empty-handed besides a few packets of stored seeds. “Hi will be happy about these,” I say. “He’s been dying to get his hands on some carrots.”

Tory laughs. “That does not sound as innocent as you think it does.”

“Mind out of the gutter, Brennan.”

A branch snaps behind us, and someone lets out a sharp gasp. Tory’s hand flies to the rifle strapped to her shoulder.

“Tory?”

We both whirl, and it’s not a zombie at all, but Tory’s still pointing her gun directly at him.

“Tory!”

“Jason.”

He steps from the trees. His blond hair is dirty and swept back but his face is glowing. He looks shocked to see us.

“How the hell did you find us?” I demand.

Jason holds up his phone. “You guys still have iFollow turned on. I realized you and Chance were together, so I found my way up here—and I guess Shelton, too.”

“And Hi,” Tory says. “And Ben. And Ella Francis.”

Jason looks amazed. And _relieved._ It’s heartbreaking. “You all survived,” he says wonderingly. “And I found you.”

“Where’s your family?” Tory asks. The gun is lowered, but she still looks wary of his unexpected presence. 

Jason’s face sobers. “Gone. My sister was at boarding school in London, and she’s still there, but my parents are gone. And Maddy—her family was one of the first to be hit. She died trying to find me.”

“God,” Tory whispers, and she sets the gun down. “Jason, I’m so sorry.”

“But I’m here.” His face is alight, and he's beaming at us, and he takes a step forward. “I finally found you.”

A shadow lunges from the trees. 

And its teeth sink into Jason’s neck.

Tory screams.

“Jason!”

I seize her wrist before she can run forward. The creature is still biting into Jason, and I can see his skin starting to gray. I can see the light leave his eyes.

I grab the gun as it slides off her shoulder. My hands are shaking and slippery, but I manage to fire once at the creature. It hits, and the zombie falls, and Jason’s still writhing on the ground. 

“JASON!” Tory shrieks, and I can’t hold the gun anymore because my head is pounding and my vision is clouding and my mind is racing. I watch it fall from my hands as Jason rises.

_Tory, no._

“Jason.” Her voice breaks as he steps slowly towards her. “Jason it’s _me._ Jason. _Jason._ ”

_It’s not him. Tory, it’s not Jason._

She lets out a sob. Then she picks up the gun. And she fires.

And she fires again. And again. And again. And again. And again.

He falls, and she fires until he stops moving, and she fires one more time, and I have to reach over and wrest the gun from her grip.

And she’s sobbing, ragged, inconsolable. 

I don’t know what to say.

…

When we finally stumble back to the house, she doesn’t speak to anyone. She just beelines for the house, mental blocks firmly in place, ignoring Ben calling after her.

“What…” Hi takes in my expression. “What the hell is going on?”

I can’t speak. I can’t find the words.

“Tory!” Ben tries yelling after her one last time, then gives up, striding towards me. “What _happened out there?_ ”

“Whoa, okay.” Hi puts a restraining hand on his shoulder, then takes the packet of carrot seeds I hadn't even realized I’m still holding. “We’re not yelling. Do me a favor, go put these in storage. Shelton and I need a minute.”

After a minute, Ben reluctantly nods, heading to the Outpost. Hi’s eyes are brimming with concern as I sit down next to him at the edge of the garden.

“Shelton, what happened?”

I don’t know what to say. All I can think to do right now is to open iFollow and disable my location.

“I can’t follow your thoughts,” he says, watching my screen with alarm. “Was there an attack?”

“Jason.” The words tumble from my mouth before I can organize them. “He found us. He was here.”

And I replay the memory.

I try to cloud it over, to keep Hi from seeing everything that happened, but it was too vivid. Because I can still see Jason’s blood running through the grass. I can still see Tory’s hair, bright against the blue sky, her face a mask of horror and grief as she fires. I can hear her screaming. 

When it’s over, Hi’s expression is the worst thing I’ve ever seen.

“Oh my God,” he says, and he says it again. “Oh my _God._ ”

…

Ben tells Chance and Ella over the fire that night. His voice is flat, devoid of emotion, but his face betrays him.

“So Jason…” Chance’s voice trails off, and his face is slack. “He came all the way out here?”

“Just to die,” Ella whispered, hugging her jacket tighter around herself. “Holy shit.”

Chance’s face is gray when he stands up and walks inside, shutting himself in Ella’s room. Her eyes are glassy as she stares at the fire, and I doubt she cares about sleeping on the couch tonight.

Ben tries knocking again on Tory’s door, but she won’t let him in. Later, Ella manages to get Tory to let her in, and I hear their voices drifting quietly through the walls.

Hi doesn’t let go of my hand the entire night.

…

TORY

I don’t join the others for dinner.

Instead, I pace. I lie on my bed. I stare at myself in the mirror—haunted eyes, unhealthily pale, much thinner than I was when I left home. My cheeks are hollow and the ends of my hair look dead. 

When I hear Chance come upstairs, I hold my breath and hope he isn’t looking for me. Thankfully, he isn’t, just shuts himself and Ella’s room and doesn’t come back out.

Are my freckles fading? I can’t tell. I want to rip the hair from my head. I don’t feel like myself. My flare feels duller than it has since I was fifteen, and I can barely make out the blue in my eyes.

When Ella knocks on the door, I hesitate. I didn’t answer the door for Ben—I knew he’d crumble the walls around my mind. But I remember that Ella can’t see inside my mind, so I stand up, and I cross over to the door, and I let her in.

She looks almost surprised that I’ve opened the door, hands twisting around a napkin-wrapped bundle that she sets on the nightstand. “Hey,” she says. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and I know I look just as awful.

“Hi.”

She hesitantly wraps me in a hug, unsure of whether I want one, but I do, and I hug her back, and we just stand there for a minute, hugging like we never spent a day apart.

“I’m so sorry,” she says. “God, I’m _so sorry._ ”

“It be like that sometimes,” I mumble.

She lets out a strangled laugh and steps back to examine me. “Are you okay?”

“Well,” I say, “I just had to watch a very good friend of mine be attacked by the undead, and then I had to kill him, so…” I sniffle and shrug slightly. “I’ve been better.”

She shuts the door and walks over to sit on the edge of my bed. “Tory…I hope you know that you did the right thing,” she says softly. “You did exactly what Jason would have wanted you to do. He wouldn’t have wanted to be like…that.”

“I know.” I sit next to her. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I did it.”

“No, I wouldn’t think so.” She reaches over to squeeze my hand.

“I just—” Sudden rage bubbles in my chest, and I have to fight to keep my voice calm. “I just wish none of this had ever happened. This ridiculous science fiction zombie _bullshit._ Why has my entire life been like this, dominated by viruses and genetic mutations? Why is the world so susceptible to stuff like this?” 

Ella’s quiet when I finish my rant, and her eyes are downcast, staring at the floor.

“Yeah,” she says. “I wish this hadn’t happened, either. No one wanted the world to end like this.”

“But we survived,” I mutter. “Yay us. Now we get to suffer and kill the people who used to be our friends.”

“Right?” Ella leans back against Ben’s pillow and stretches out her socked feet. “Surviving sucks,” she says. “But it’s better than the alternatives.”

Right. There are _alternatives_ now, as in more than one. A gray area between life and death.

“It really sucks,” I echo.

Ella glances at me. “If nothing else, we’re still here out of spite,” she reminds me, “because fuck this stupid apocalypse. I wasn’t quite done living.”

“Neither was Jason,” I say hollowly.

“No.” Her voice softens. “He wasn’t.”

She reaches over for the little bundle and hands it to me. “Here,” she says. “Chance and I shot a deer, and I think we overcooked it a little, but you should eat something.”

“Thanks.”

I take a bite. It’s not exactly debutante ball buffet food, but it’s a sharp reminder that the six of us are here for a reason. We’re still alive, no matter what life throws at us.

And the weight on my chest becomes just a little bit lighter.

…

The barriers slowly crumble as we talk. Ella tentatively asks about college, and as she begins describing her horrible roommate who steals her clothes, I almost laugh. I tell her about the hardships of being apart from my pack, separated from the telepathy that binds us. I even hedge a comment about missing Ben, hoping that will get her to open up about whatever happened between her and Chance, but she doesn’t.

So I ask. “What happened? With Chance?”

Ella’s mouth twists, and she stares out the window. “We’re not together. I…I couldn’t. Not anymore.”

“Ella, why?” I crumple the napkin. “Did he do something to you?”

She hesitates.

“Yes and no,” she finally answers. “He did something. Not to me. But it wasn’t something he should have done, and I couldn’t trust him. Not after that.”

I wait. She doesn’t elaborate. 

“Chance has a lot to answer for.” In a tone of finality. I sense that she’s done with the subject of her former boyfriend.

In the silence, my eyes catch the mirror across the room. I truly look awful. The ends of my hair are still matted, and I walk to the bathroom and snatch my hairbrush off the counter, suddenly desperate to feel like I’m not covered in imaginary blood.

“Tor.” Ella’s behind me, sweeping the hairbrush out of my hands and guiding me to the edge of the shower. She turns on the tap and shoves a towel under my feet. I don’t protest, even as rivulets of water run down my face and soak my shirt. 

When my hair is clean, she brushes it straight and grabs a pair of scissors from the counter. I watch in the mirror as she chops off the ragged ends. Chunks of wet hair fall on the towel at my feet. 

“How short are you going?” I ask numbly.

She ignores me. My hair reaches my shoulders before she stops and examines the ends.

“Done,” she proclaims. Her own hair, as long as ever, swings loose around her. “You’ll feel like a new person. Promise.” 

I manage a half-smile. “Thanks.”

She squeezes my hand. “I’m always here, Brennan."


	10. Chapter 10

 HI

DAY 100

Jason’s death changes everything.

The weather’s starting to cool, and the mood is grim. I know Tory’s hanging in there—she’s unusually strong, and after she and Ella talked, I could tell she’d be okay. I worry about Shelton, but he seems to be holding it together, too. Not enough time for us to process. I start sending Ben out with Tory and keeping Shelton with me. 

“I’m fine,” he protested the first day, but Ben was more than willing to go with Tory. 

We still see zombies frequently. Not frequently enough to consider packing up and moving, but frequently enough that we’ve become accustomed to hunting them as a pack. By now, it’s almost too easy, as long as we stay within range of each other’s thoughts, which we almost always do.

Chance and Ella fight almost every day. Despite our collective best efforts, not a single one of us have a single idea what they’re fighting about. Tory shared what she knew, but it didn’t fill in any blanks.

Tory and I are in the Outpost one night when I notice she’s frowning at her phone.

“What’s up?”

“I don’t know.” She’s tapping various apps, opening and closing them. “I heard something buzz, but I don’t know which app it came from.”

“Did it give you a notification?”

“No. Maybe I’m just imagining things.”

_Hey, dipshits._ It’s Shelton. _Where did you put Chance’s jacket? He can’t find it and he’s taking it out on me._

Tory’s eyes flash the color of beryl. (I found a book on rocks in Opal's room. Call me a nerd.)  _I put it in the hall closet because it was getting mud all over the floor._

There’s a pause. _Chance says you’re the worst._

_He can say whatever he wants as long as he puts his coat in the goddamn closet._

_Where are you guys?_ Ben asks.

_Outpost. Making dinner._ I send him a quick visual of Tory attempting to cut vegetables and having absolutely no idea how to hold the knife.

“HI.”

I snort and let my flare fade. “It was funny.”

She shakes her head, just as her phone buzzes again. This time, I see it, too.

“What is _happening?”_

“I don’t know.” She shoves her phone at me. “If you can figure out what’s going, on please do.”

And I can’t, so she tucks it back into her pocket and shoves a hunk of kale at me. 

…

I’ll never be over the sunsets here. They don’t just glow, they burn with a fierce intensity that hurts your eyes if you stare too long. They light up the entire mountain orange and pink, and Tory’s hair looks like it’s actually on fire when she sits right in the light.

“Look at that.” Ben sprawls on the grass next to me, tugging a jacket around his shoulders. It’s cold out here on good nights, and now that we’re well into October, the sun sets at 6:30 and it’s freezing until it rises at 8. “That is incredible.”

“It is cool,” I agree, leaning back on my elbows. “We don’t get sunsets like that on the island.”

Cooper settles in next to me and rests his head on my shoulder.

_Hey, kiddo._

Cooper gives me a look from the corner of his eye. _Not a kid._

_I knew you when you were a puppy, when Tory pulled you out of that hole in the woods. You_ ' _re always going to be kiddo._

If dogs could only roll their eyes. 

Shelton joins us next, attempting to shift the giant wolfdog a few inches up the hill so he can sit next to me, linking our hands. “Holy shit,” he says. “Would you look at that.”

“I’ve tried to take pictures,” I say. “It just doesn’t do it justice.”

“Nope. iPhone cameras can’t get that.”

He leans his head on my shoulder, and I try not to dwell on the fact that it’s the closest he’s let me get to him in weeks, but he picks up on my thoughts anyway.

_I_ _’_ _m okay,_ he tells me quietly. _You don_ _’_ _t need to be careful around me, like I_ _’_ _m going to break at any second. It_ _’_ _s just a thing that happened, and it_ _’_ _s part of our new reality here, and I need to live with that._

_I just wanted to give you space,_ I say uncertainly. _If you needed it._

_I needed time to think,_ he says, _to process. It doesn_ _’_ _t mean I love you any less._

The sun sinks lower, brilliantly illuminating the trees, and the first hints of stars begin to appear on the other side of the sky. 

If the sunsets are beautiful, the stars are breathtaking.

Tory joins us on the lawn, and for a moment, it’s a Virals party, the five of us stretched on the grass to enjoy the lights in the sky, wrapped in jackets and each other’s minds. I’m sharply reminded of all the times we’ve sat in this exact setup on the Morris beach, Shelton next to me next to Ben next to Tory, Cooper snoozing somewhere around us.

When the sun finally fades from view, the stars finally come into focus, more brilliant on this mountain than we ever could have discerned from our little South Carolina island.

…

I’m not sure who wakes up first, but eventually, we realize that it’s _very_ late, and we all finally stand, grumbling and shivering, and wandering towards the house. Inside, we all shed frozen jackets and shoes and split off to our separate rooms as Chance snickers from under three blankets on the couch.

…

TORY

Day 109

Twitter is _alive._ That’s what the buzzing Hi and I heard was—someone’s taken over Twitter’s server, and now it’s a functioning platform with thousands of people all tweeting at each other, trying to find their friends and families. The two notifications I got were from Twitter, telling me to re-confirm my email. (Useless, since email is just as dead as everything else.)

I definitely know that Kit doesn’t have a Twitter. I also never told him about my Twitter. But it’s worth a shot, so I type _Kit Howard_ into the search bar.

Nothing.

Goddamn it.

“Any luck?” Shelton wanders into the Outpost. “Also, where are those chocolate chip granola bars?”

“You mean, the ones that have zero nutritional value? Cabinet over the fridge.”

“Thanks, Dictator Brennan.” He salutes me briefly with his granola bar. “Try to find the other parents. Hi claims he can’t get a Wi-Fi signal in the house—I’m going to go take a look at the router, but it’s more likely he doesn’t actually want to find out that his mom is looking for him.”

Fair enough. “I’ll take a look, but Kit isn’t here.”

“Update your profile anyway,” Shelton suggests. “Put your full name in the bio and that the six of us are alive. That way, if Kit tries to find you later, at least he’ll know you’re still kicking.”

He’s right, so I do it, typing quickly. _Tory Grace Brennan //  alive with BB, HS, SD, EF, and CC as of 10/25 // Kit, contact me if you find this._

Then I try the other parents, one after another. Nothing.

The Outpost door swings open, and Ella walks in, shaking her hair out of a French braid. “Shelton says you’re hiding granola contraband,” she accuses.

I throw my hands up. “I’m only in here to get a connection!”

“Lies." She tugs the granola bar box down from the top cabinet. “Want one? Or did you already eat a bunch of these?”

“I’m not eating granola bars, Ella!”

She gives me a mock-suspicious glance as she waltzes out, granola bar in hand.

…

I’m heading up to bed that night when I hear something—Chance and Ella. Arguing. Upstairs. Very, very quietly, but I can hear them through the vent by the front window.

Snapping my flare to life, I crouch by the vent and listen as Chance’s words drift to me.

_“…_ the _point_ of telling them? It doesn’t change our situation. It doesn’t change anything, except that they might throw me into the river and leave me to drown.”

“I should throw you myself,” Ella says, and she sounds furious. “Believe me, I’ve been tempted to do that since I joined you guys up here.”

“Why didn’t you tell them?”

There’s a pause, and then I hear her exhale. “Because, as you said, it wouldn’t change the situation. The world is still an on-fire garbage can, and if they knew _why…_ ”

_If they knew why._

I’m suddenly frozen, gripping the windowsill. 

I’ve never considered what actually happened to kick off this mess.

_Does Chance know?_

“They might kill you too,” Chance says wryly. “Just for knowing about it.”

Ella gives a short laugh. “They always told you it would backfire,” she says. “They told you, and you didn’t listen, and then we all took that serum you made, and it was all over, and you _still didn’t listen._ You are incapable of listening to reason. And look where it got you.”

My mind is racing, and I can’t connect any dots. The guys, still in the Outpost, haven’t picked up on anything wrong yet, and I’m too stunned to alert them.

“I still think,” Ella says, “they should know the truth. That we didn’t catch it because we were both… _vaccinated._ And that they _can’t_ catch it.”

“If we tell them that, we’ll have to tell them everything,” Chance argues.

“So tell them everything. It’s been over three months of us being in this mess. I’m tired. It’s November. And none of this is going to stop unless you do something about it.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“You have a fucking vaccine,” Ella spits. “Against the plague. I think that’ll do something, don’t you?”

“I only have a vaccine because I _created_ the plague.”

My head spins, and my world comes crashing down around my head. The other Virals are crowding my brain, but I hardly notice.

Hi’s voice explodes in my head, jolting me away from the windowsill. My knee bangs into the vent, startling Chance and Ella into silence.

“Hi?” Ella calls. “Ben?” 

Slowly, I pick myself up and climb the stairs. Ella’s door is closed, so I shove it open and stand in the doorway.

And they see my face.

And they know I heard everything.

It’s dead silent—there are three voices yelling in my head, and two people silent in front of me, looking stricken, like they were just caught committing murder.

_More like genocide,_ a snide voice in my head says, and I can’t tell if it’s mine or someone else’s.

“So,” I say quietly. “You did it, Chance. You and your fucking pharmaceutical company. You broke the world.”

Ella’s eyes are on the ground, and she knows as well as I do that the guys will never let her and Chance stay with us. Not after this.

“Let me get this straight,” I continue. “We’re all hiding in terror here and yet you somehow vaccinated us against this without letting any of us know, because Candela was trying to do what, exactly? Create another designer virus and rake in some cash on a cure?”

“It wasn’t Candela,” Chance interrupts. “And we didn’t vaccinate you. You’re immune because the virus…” 

He swallows, and he won’t finish his sentence. 

And suddenly I get it. I understand why this all started. Why Ella told me _Chance has a lot to answer for._ What he would have been doing, messing around with a virus that only the four of us would be immune to.

“You were trying to become Viral again,” I say.

Chance winces, and I know I’m right.

“You actually turned _the entire country_ into a swarm of animated corpses because you were so desperate to figure out our secret,” I say. “Look at the world, Chance! Look how many people are gone!” My voice cracks. “Ninety percent of the country is infected. That’s _two hundred and ninety-three million people._ Because you couldn’t leave well enough alone, and you had to try to figure it out again, and you messed around with things you shouldn’t have messed around with.” 

The front door flies open downstairs and footsteps thunder up to Ella’s room. Ben emerges behind me, followed by Shelton and then Hi. All look shell-shocked, like we’ve spent the last three months being constantly lied to at every turn.

_Oh, wait._

“And you,” I say, coldly furious, turning to Ella. “You _knew._ You knew the _whole time,_ and you didn’t tell me.”

Ella holds my eyes. “And I’d do it again. As angry as I am with Chance, I knew joining you was our best chance of survival, and I didn’t want him to die.”

It’s a fair point, but it doesn’t change the fact that she kept this from me. And she knows that. 

“Well,” Hi says behind me, “your worst fears are officially confirmed. Get the hell out of our house.”

Chance bristles. “These are my rations you’re living off of—”

“And it’s your virus everyone’s _dying_  of!” Ben shouts. “Get out!” 

My mind is reeling with the sheer magnitude of Chance’s stupid experiments.

_Trying to become Viral?_

_How closely related are Virals to these…zombies?_

Ella’s the only one still in the room, methodically folding clothes and shoving them into a duffel bag. 

“Tory,” she says quietly. “I really am sorry.”

I manage a nod.

“Sit down,” she says. “I’ll tell you everything I know.”

I push the door shut and walk over to the tiny beanbag in the corner of her room, decorated with a tiny embroidered O. Opal _._ Another victim of this apocalypse. A child.

_Chance owes an apology to this girl. And everyone else._

Ella sits on the edge of her bed and folds her legs under her.  

“It started when we took the serum,” she said haltingly. “After our powers went away. When we got out, Chance managed to steal a few samples of blood. For…experimenting.”

My blood runs cold. “Wouldn’t he need more after a while?”

Ella smiles bitterly. “If only. He created the original strain fairly quickly, and then he kept manipulating it. I told him to stop, and he told me he did.”

“But he didn’t,” I say. It isn’t a question.

Ella crosses her legs. “I left for school. And while I was gone…he started up again.” Her hands twist a pillow between them. “When I came home…he was so excited. He told me he thought he had it. And then everyone at Candela was suddenly…”

Her voice trails off, and I can see it. Twisted corpses, gray of skin, lurching towards us. And she’d seen the first ones.

“And since it was based on your DNA,” she says quietly, “you’re immune. I don’t know what Chance did to immunize us, but…” She shrugs and rolls up her sleeve.

And there it is, just above her elbow—a scar in the shape of a set of teeth.

“Oh my God,” I whisper.

“Chance tried to get to Jason,” she says flatly. “We couldn’t find him, so we hoped he’d find us. So we could give him the vaccine.”

And suddenly, I’ve heard too much, and I stand up. “If Jason had just made it to the house—”

“He would have been safe.”

I stand up and walk out, shutting the door behind me.

I can’t think, I can’t breathe.

The world is broken and it’s Chance’s fault.

…

DAY 110

The next time I see Chance and Ella, they’re climbing into Chance’s car at sunrise. The four of us are lined up outside the front door, Cooper snuffling around the bushes in front of us.

“So, what?” Hi folds his arms. “We don’t have a method of transportation anymore?”

“We do,” Shelton says. “Jason’s car. His keys are on the counter in the Outpost.” 

Ben’s stonily silent beside me, arms folded. I can practically hear the _I told you so_ in his thoughts. _I told you Chance was bad news._

_You didn’t tell me he accidentally committed mass genocide._

_Well, I’m sorry I didn’t guess his exact plans,_ he says acidly.

“Come on,” Hi says. “No arguments right now. Let’s talk about our next move.”

“What next move, man?” Shelton throws up his hands. “It’s over. We have to ride out the winter with the supplies we have, and then…then we figure out what to do.”

Down the driveway, the car starts with a low rumble. It pushes off down the hill and, with my enhanced vision, I catch one last glimpse of Ella’s pale, tear-streaked face through the window as she disappears behind the trees.

It’s a good three minutes before we can’t see or hear the car anymore. 

They’re really gone.


End file.
